WARNING: BDSM, dubious consent, spanking, enemas, fisting, sounds play. If the fantasy of a discipline relationship between two adult men offends you, so will this story.


ELIZABETH MARSHALL STORIES


RECLAMATION


Chapter 1


Howard Pearce straightened his monogrammed cuffs and adjusted his jacket, felt the Windsor knot in his tie and then froze, annoyed at his own self consciousness. This was hardly going to be a difficult interview. He'd been a member of Le Plaisir for years; there was no reason that Marcus Rhodes wouldn't accept him into this program. It was all nonsense anyway. He hadn't done anything out of line to Alan, except perhaps to be too indulgent to him and keep him as a submissive past the point where he should have cut him loose. Alan had been a huge disappointment, cravenly grateful for every little kindness, requiring an excessive amount of support and sympathy after even the mildest spanking. It was hardly Howard's fault that they had gone on to alternative methods of control and discipline and it was certainly not Howard's fault that Alan had wanted to explore kinkier and kinkier scenarios. Howard felt a flash of anger and concentrated on it, mustering his self righteous sense of having been the wronged party.


The door to the inner office opened silently and Marcus stood at the threshold for a long moment, studying the handsome man sitting in his anteroom, who hadn't yet noticed him. Howard Pearce was a striking man, tall and well built, with a heavy shock of light brown hair that he kept short and severely combed back. Marcus thought irrelevantly that it would probably have a nice wave if it weren't so ruthlessly gelled in place. "Howard."


"Marcus." Howard stood up and stepped forward, extending his hand, taking control of the exchange. "Pleasure to see you again. Thank you for making the time to talk with me."


"Of course," Marcus said, smiling inwardly at Howard's blatant play at normalizing their encounter and setting them on a level playing field. He recognized the exquisite sensitivity to power dynamics that characterized the behavior of an uncertain top. "Would you come inside, please."


"Thank you," Howard said. He moved with graceful confidence into the office. He was at home among the rich woods and thick carpets, perfectly comfortable in the beautifully furnished room. It was not very different from his own offices.


Marcus led the way to the couch and chairs arranged in the opposite corner from the desk and both men seated themselves. Marcus smiled at Howard. "Why don't you tell me why you've decided to come here?"


"I think you know the story," Howard said. "I was called up by the board because of a complaint made by Alan Collins, my former submissive. As you know, the board is heavily biased in favor of submissives." He strove for a light tone, aware that the deep bitterness he felt was not going to make a good impression on Marcus. "Or so I feel, after my experience. As far as I'm concerned, what happened between us should have stayed between us. It all occurred in the context of a consensual relationship. I never violated our understanding and why Alan chose to take me before the board had everything to do with his desire to control me and control our relationship and nothing to do with my fitness as a top."


"Howard, we're not meeting to rehash the board's decision," Marcus said. "I thought I made clear when you sought this appointment that the only thing we were going to discuss was whether or not you wished to attempt to regain your membership in Le Plaisir by going through our rehabilitation and reevaluation program."


"Yes, of course," Howard said. "I merely wanted to give you a little background on what had occurred, since I feel that the board's decision was both unfair and–"


"Howard, either we focus on the agreed upon purpose of this meeting or this meeting is over," Marcus said.


Howard scowled, but he needed this man and so he tamped down his desire to protest the arbitrary nature of Marcus's demand and nodded. "Certainly, Marcus. I want to enter your program, then. Is that focused enough?" His tone was just a shade shy of sarcastic.


"Quite." Marcus chose to ignore Howard's attitude and focus on his words. There would be time enough, should he enter the program, for the top who trained him to straighten out the incongruity between what Howard said and how he said it. Marcus permitted himself a secret smile at the thought of just how this sort of insolence would be handled should Howard choose to continue down this path.


"You do understand that what we specialize in is, not to put too fine a point on it, punishment?" Marcus's voice betrayed none of the disdain he felt for the likes of Howard. He had scant sympathy for the faux tops who entered his program; he'd seen too much of the damage they'd done to feel anything but relief at the thought they would be removed from the community. "Or perhaps more precisely, reeducation, rehabilitation and reevaluation. Think of it as an opportunity for redemption."


"I understand," said Howard, trying hard not to roll his eyes at what he saw as Marcus's politically correct pomposity. "But what else can I do?" Howard spread his hands in a melodramatic gesture. "Alan ruined it for me, you know. I never abused him, but it's a 'he said, he said' kind of deal, and he's saying it a lot more persuasively than I can, the lying little shit."


Marcus concealed his distaste for Howard's disrespectful characterization of his former submissive. "That's all irrelevant, Howard. Our program simply offers a second chance for members of the BDSM community who've been blackballed as abusive players."


"Fuck that, Marcus, I'm not an abusive player, I'm a top who got screwed over by a brat who didn't know what the fuck he wanted. I don't need a second chance, I need a fair hearing!"


"Your language, Howard?" Marcus didn't raise his voice, but the rebuke was clear.

"Civility is one of our community's core values. We take our clients all the way down, all the way back, to the most elemental level."


"I'm no one's slave!" Howard snapped, glaring at Marcus.


"No man is free who can't master his own temper." Marcus's voice was soft, but his eyes were hard as they met Howard's. "No one is making you do this, Howard. If you choose to enter our program, it is entirely of your own free choice. There is no compulsion involved. Neither Alan or the board at Le Plaisir has taken any legal action against you. This is entirely a private matter between you and your club. You can leave here any time you choose and there will be no repercussions save the loss of your club membership."


"And if I agree to go through your program," Howard asked, "Would I get my club membership back?"


"Yes, on one condition." Marcus looked at Howard for a long moment. "You must complete the entire program." Privately he doubted that Howard would be able to last the first three days. The man was close to insufferable. He was prepared for Howard to back out right then, but Howard surprised him.


"All right then," Howard said. "Yes. Why not? It's not like I can't afford the time off." He smiled wolfishly. Let Marcus think what he wanted; Howard knew he could endure whatever program Le Plaisir had created. The problem wasn't that the club's standards were too tough, it was that they were far too indulgent toward the weak submissives in their midst. "When do I start?"


"It is Monday. Shall we agree that you take the rest of the week to wind up your business and personal affairs and return here late Sunday afternoon if you are truly ready to proceed? I should warn you, Howard, that despite what you may think, this is not going to be an easy nor a pleasant experience. We at Le Plaisir take our responsibility to the BDSM community very seriously. We will not graduate you from this program until we are entirely sure that you no longer represent a danger to the community. You hurt your submissive, Alan, badly and we will not take any chances regarding a repeat incident."


"Marcus, nothing happened to Alan that exceeded the limits we agreed to," Howard said. "Nevertheless, I am willing to go through your program in order to prove my fitness to remain a member of Le Plaisir. Do you have a list of what I need to bring when I return here Sunday afternoon?"


"You will not need to pack anything, Howard. All your needs will be provided for. Bring only yourself." Marcus handed Howard a card. "You may give that number to anyone who may have a legitimate need to contact you. Make it clear it is only for emergency use. You have the rest of the week to conclude your business."


Howard pocketed the card. "I'll be here on Sunday," he said. "How long should I anticipate the program will take?"


"I can't give you an answer to that question," Marcus said. "It all depends on you. You may decide at any point that the program is not for you, in which case you will be immediately released. Should you find the program does suit your needs, we will decide when you have made sufficient progress to graduate."


"In other words, I have to trust you," Howard said with a sneer.


"Indeed you will, Howard, if you decide to undertake this venture. It is, as I have said before, entirely your choice. If you are truly committed to entering our program, return here at five this Sunday afternoon."


"Fine. I'll be here on Sunday." Howard turned on his heel and walked out of the office.


Marcus took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was very glad that Howard was no longer allowed into Le Plaisir as a top; he'd never trust a man with so little self control and such a bad temper with control over anyone else. There was another problem he had to consider, though: if Howard did indeed appear on Sunday night, who was he going to entrust Howard to? It would take someone with equal strength and equal intelligence to have a chance of handling the recalcitrant former top. He turned to his computer screen and pulled up a list of the tops the program had made use of in the past. He was glad to see that the man he had in mind for Howard was not at present supervising anyone else's retraining.


Marcus picked up his phone and placed a call.


"Oliver Sutton. Marcus, is that you?"


"Hello, Oliver," Marcus said. "I have a new project for you, should you be interested. I have a feeling that you won't feel I'm doing you any favors though, once you meet him."


"Oh, I don't know," Oliver said, amusement in his voice. "You know I like a challenge." He looked around his immaculate loft, down at his impeccably manicured nails. "It so happens that I have some free time at the moment. I'd be happy to take on your reclamation project. We are agreed, Marcus, that we are talking about reclamation, not retribution, correct? I have next to no interest in what the man did to get where he is. What I will do with him is what I have done with all my projects over the years, I will strip him down to his essential self and then together, he and I will work on finding him a new and more comfortable way of existing in our world, in conformation with who he truly is."


"Agreed, Oliver," Marcus said. "That has always been our philosophy and the intent of our program."


"In theory," Oliver said. "But you must admit there have been times when the interests of retributory justice and punishment have been in the forefront of the board's mind."


"That board is only an advisory board, as well you know," Marcus said. "I am the sole owner of Le Plaisir. The decisions about Le Plaisir's policies and about the intentions of this program are mine and mine alone. There is, as always, the final lesson in empathy that you will need to administer before the program is completed. Other than that, you are free to use your own methods in retraining our client."


"I am reassured, Marcus," Oliver said, a smile in his voice. "We've always understood each other well. I will be there this Sunday for lunch and we can have a good visit before I meet my new bad boy. You will send me over whatever documentation you have on him and on the reasons why his membership was suspended, I assume? I'll also need the application he submitted when he originally applied for membership, which I assume contains a copy of his medical records."


"Certainly. Our messenger service will have them to you early this afternoon. You know, Oliver, there are a quite number of people who would be extremely surprised to learn that punishment is not your primary concern. Your approach to our clients has raised some eyebrows from our more tenderhearted board members."


"Has it really?" Oliver chuckled. "I'm fascinated, Marcus. So I've acquired a reputation for cruelty? I'm shocked, shocked, shocked."


Marcus laughed out loud. "I'm not. I'm looking forward to seeing you on Sunday, in any case. You owe me a rematch after our last chess game, Oliver."


"So I do," said Oliver. "Until Sunday, then." Closing his phone, he stood and walked to the array of orchids at his window. He admired the spray of brown and yellow Phalaenopsis that had begun to open, satisfied with the muted striations of color and the hints of purple in the dark brown fringes. It was going to be a very satisfactory plant indeed, in all probability worthy of naming. He surveyed the rest of his collection and deciding that there was no staking, pruning or rearrangement needed, left the heavy pots as they were. He had a finely honed sense of when to interfere and when not to interfere and he believed it was an important distinction to develop, whether dealing with plants or with people. He enjoyed the challenge of nurturing difficult specimens and that enjoyment too applied to both plants and people.


The doorbell interrupted his musings. Marcus's messenger, Oliver thought to himself as he rose to answer it. As always, Le Plaisir's owner was impeccably efficient. Oliver smiled; knowing Marcus, he had sent the materials in advance of their conversation. Marcus knew his people well and Oliver knew he'd had little reason to doubt that Oliver would rise to this challenge.


Oliver resolved to remember Marcus's strategy when he embarked on Sunday's chess game. There was no fun in making life too easy for Marcus. He opened the door, thanked the messenger for the package and took it with him to his favorite chair. Settling in comfortably, he opened thick envelope and began to read.


Howard spent the week getting his affairs in order. He had always organized his marketing firm's business so as to allow himself the maximum amount of leisure to pursue his own avocations, so leaving for an indeterminate time was not as difficult as it might have been. He chose to spend the better part of the week working out at his gym, having his body waxed and his hair trimmed and his nails manicured. He was determined to make a good impression from the first on whoever would be in charge of the program and he was certain his attention to the details of his appearance would stand him in good stead. Howard had always preferred to shave or wax his body hair and had always required his submissives to do the same. He liked the way the absence of hair emphasized his musculature and believed it enhanced the appearance of his genitals as well.


Determined to demonstrate his willingness to cooperate with Le Plaisir's management's strictures and to swiftly jump through this nonsensical hoop and regain his full membership, Howard arrived at Marcus's office ten minutes early. He hoped that his promptness and attention to detail–he had brought nothing at all with him–would be noted and would impress those in charge of the program. He sat calmly outside Marcus's office, certain that he would successfully meet this challenge, as he'd met most every challenge in his life. He scowled as he thought of the challenge that Alan had presented and how he had clearly blown that one, then forced himself to remember that that had been entirely Alan's fault. His own contribution to the train wreck had been negligible and if Alan had been any kind of a man, he wouldn't have gone crying to the club's administration. His musings were interrupted by Marcus's appearance.


"Welcome, Howard. I take it you've decided to enter our program," Marcus said. Despite himself, he was impressed that Howard had been good to his word and appeared at the agreed upon time. It showed more character than he had given the man credit for.


"Yes, yes, I'm all set," Howard said. "I'm looking forward to putting this whole mess behind me for good."


Marcus could see that Howard had no idea whatsoever what the journey he was about to embark on was really about. He almost felt sorry for him. "This is your last chance to opt out, Howard," Marcus said quietly. "If you choose to explore this program, we will assume total control over you. You will have your safe word: Mercy. If you are gagged or bound, your safe signal is two fingers, like this." He demonstrated the "v" signal. "If you use either your safe word or your signal, everything ceases. You will be immediately released from the program and returned to the place of your choice and your membership at Le Plaisir will be permanently terminated."


"But if I finish the program, I'll be reinstated?" Howard asked. He'd never used his safe word before, not once in all his training to be a dominant. He was sure he wouldn't use it now.


"Correct. Other than using your safe word to opt out entirely, you will agree to let us assume total control. Do you agree?"


Total control? The phrase as Marcus used it sounded ominous. "Do I have another word?" Howard asked softly. "Something that will slow the action down but not end it?"


"Did you give Alan that option?" Marcus asked.


"No, but that was different," Howard objected. "Alan would have abused the privilege of a safe word and used it to try to control me. He agreed with me; he didn't want a safe word."


"Then you are being given a more generous option than you offered Alan. You have a safe word: mercy. Use it and everything stops. Now, I am going to ask you again: Other than using your safe word to end everything, do you agree to let us assume total control?"


"But what does that mean? You have to give me more information--" Howard was frustrated.


"Total control." Marcus cut Howard short. "The top assigned to your training will not harm you, but he will assume total control over your body. He will control your speech, your behavior, your most basic bodily functions and he will punish you if you disobey him. Do you agree, Howard?"


"Fine." Howard's annoyance was audible. For all his talk of courtesy and respect, Marcus was showing him precious little. He was talking to him like a submissive who was expected to reply "yes, sir" and nothing else. Howard gritted his teeth. He could do this, no matter what Marcus thought. If he had to show that he could follow orders like a submissive, he would do that. It was all a game, anyway. He knew the rules; he would follow them and he would be reinstated and then life would go on again as it should have in the first place. This unsettling hollowness he felt at the loss of the community of Le Plaisir, a club that had become central to his existence, would subside and he would once again feel respected and safe.


"Let me explain what is going to happen next," Marcus said, taking pity on Howard. Despite Howard's irritating attitude, he was clearly desperate to regain his membership in Le Plaisir or he would not have sought out this program and would not be sitting here now. Only a small percentage of players branded abusive were offered this opportunity for redemption; only an even smaller percentage of those agreed to take it. Howard deserved credit for the depth of his desire to rejoin the community, if for nothing else. "You may not be aware that there is a training facility attached to this house. Our property extends several acres into the woods. It is totally fenced and both safe and private. There is nowhere to go that your movements won't be picked up by our security system."


"You think I'd run away?" Howard was outraged. "I'm not a coward, Marcus!"


"I didn't mean to imply that you were," Marcus said. "I simply want to make sure that you understand the terms of this program. In the next few minutes, I am going to introduce you to Oliver Sutton, your top while you are in the program. He will be in total charge of your training. There is no one else you can turn to, no one else who is empowered to intervene between you. You are to obey him without question. If you cannot obey, if you choose not to obey, you will be punished. You can end all of this at any time by using your safe word or safe signal. It does not matter what is going on at the time: all you have to do is use your safe word and it ends, instantly."


Howard mentally rolled his eyes, judging that it was better not to actually make the dismissive gesture. Why did Marcus keep harping on this safe word? How weak did Marcus think he was? "Yes, Marcus. I understand and I'm not afraid."


Marcus thought that Howard would be better off if he were afraid; it would all be less of a shock. He didn't see Howard lasting even the three days he'd originally allotted him, not with this attitude. However, he had agreed to give Howard his chance and he would follow through. "Very well. Come with me now." He led the way down a long hallway toward the rear of the house. Unlocking the heavy wood paneled door at the end of the corridor, he gestured that Howard should proceed him inside.


Chapter 2


The room that they entered was quiet and pleasantly dim. Silhouetted against the windows was a tall, heavy set man with jet black hair. He turned to Howard and Marcus and smiled.


"Oliver, this is Howard," Marcus said. "Howard, this is Oliver. He is going to be your top for the duration of the program."


"Good to meet you, Oliver," Howard said, stepping forward and offering his hand. He noted that Oliver was taller than him, which was something that Howard always disliked. "I'm looking forward to working with you."


"I'm glad to hear it," Oliver said, looking amused. He held Howard's hand in his own, well aware of Howard's discomfort at the transformation of his pro forma handshake into a more intimate gesture. "This is not going to be an egalitarian relationship. I expect you to remain quiet from now on, Howard, until I give you permission to talk. If you speak again before then, I will gag you."


"Fine," Howard said sullenly. To his shock Oliver used his grip on his hand to spin him around, pinning him to his side.


"You will learn that I don't make idle threats." Reaching into his pocket, Oliver swiftly withdrew a moderately sized ball gag and with matter of fact efficiency wedged it firmly between Howard's teeth and before Howard regained his balance, tightened the attached strap so that it was securely in place.


Marcus hesitated a moment, looking toward Howard's hands as if he almost expected him to make the "v" gesture that substituted for his safe word.


Oliver caught the look and smiled at Marcus. "I know. A "v" means mercy. Spoken or gestured, the result will be the same. Everything ends and I release Howard from the program. No further restraint, no questions, no further chances. Do you want to use your safe signal, Howard?"


Howard's outraged glare was a clear negative.


"There, you see? Our boy understands perfectly. Thank you, Marcus, for all your support. We'll be fine." Howard nodded toward the door. "Good bye."


Marcus suppressed his desire to smile at Oliver's careless dismissal, knowing it was so much show for Howard's benefit. "I hope all goes well for you, Howard. Remember, you have your safe word and signal if you need them. They will be respected, " Marcus said, not meeting Howard's widened eyes. He had seen Oliver work before; bringing a man down fast and hard was his stock in trade. Yet Marcus had faith in Oliver's patience and empathy for even the most egregiously cruel tops who entered Le Plaisir's program. "Try if you can to trust Oliver," Marcus advised Howard. He turned his back on the two men, feeling the hair on the back of his neck rise as Howard continued to glare at him, and left the room, closing the door with a soft click behind him.


Oliver walked to the door and turned the lock. "It's just you and me now, Howard," he said pleasantly. "I want you to undress, please." Oliver's voice was calm and even. He seemed entirely unconcerned with the fury radiating off Howard. "Everything off. Put your clothes and shoes over here." He gestured to an upholstered chair. "Right now, please." He patted Howard's cheek lightly, sharply. "Focus."


Numbed by the suddenness with which he had been rendered speechless and shocked at the not quite slap, Howard obeyed. He had used the same technique of having him disrobe to humble Alan; he wasn't surprised by the order to strip, only by having it directed at him. He folded his clothing neatly, hiding his seething anger at the unfairness of it all and his feeling of vulnerability at being nude.


"Come along." Oliver led Howard through a doorway down a short hall to a spotless, fully tiled room. It was possibly the largest bathroom Howard had ever seen outside of a gymnasium. There was a toilet, a deep bathtub with a padded bench nearby, a shower and a steel topped medical examination table to one side, complete with stirrups. In the center of the tiled floor was a drain.


"From now on, you will ask permission when you want to use the bathroom, and you will also be required to eliminate at my command. Right now, I want you to use the facilities to void your bladder and bowels so that I can examine you thoroughly," Oliver said, gesturing toward the toilet.


Howard stepped in the opposite direction and meeting Oliver's eyes, shook his head in a very definite no. He tried to tug the gag free so that he could calmly and rationally explain to Oliver that he didn't care to play like this.


"You're making a serious mistake, Howard," Oliver said. "Put your hands down and do not touch that gag again. I told you to use the toilet and that's what I expect you to do. Now."


Howard's muffled attempt to explain that he wasn't sure he could comply was countered by the swift removal of the ball gag and the even swifter insertion of a more severe gag with a phallic shaped bit that choked him when he tried to talk.


"We're not having a discussion about what you do or don't want to do; I'm giving you an order," Oliver said evenly. "Calm down, Howard, you can breathe, there's no need to panic. The gag is hollow at the center, you've got plenty of air. Calm down." Oliver could tell Howard was unnerved by the even deeper silence the new gag enforced. This was a man who used speech as a weapon to defend himself; having it summarily taken away from him was yet another way of stripping him bare. It was of a piece with everything else Oliver intended to throw at Howard this first night. He was going to take Howard down hard; it was the only way he would be able to get past Howard's well crafted persona to the neglected self beneath.


Howard tried to steady his breathing. He really didn't think he would be able to comply with Oliver's order and he was afraid of what would happen if he didn't.


"Empty your bladder and your bowels, Howard," Oliver ordered again. "I won't repeat myself a fourth time. If you don't obey me I will catheterize you and then give you an enema." He knew it was a cruel threat, but the sooner he established that he was in total control of Howard's most basic functions, the better. There was no room for ambivalence this early in the process. Howard would soon be fighting for the life of the persona he had spent his adult life perfecting. Only absolute clarity on Oliver's part regarding who was truly in charge would have a hope of separating the false from the true Howard.


Completely unnerved by Oliver's matter of fact threat, Howard approached the toilet and tried desperately to concentrate on wet thoughts. To his profound relief, he was able to urinate. Anything more was impossible.


"Good boy," Oliver said approvingly, ignoring Howard's startled glare at the appellation "boy." "You're trying. I'm going to help you out with the other." Oliver placed his hand at the small of Howard's back and propelled him toward the steel topped table with its attached IV pole. "Come on, up here on the table. Lie down, that's right. Left side. Lie still and I won't have to restrain you."


Next to the table on a small stand were a variety of supplies. Howard tried not to panic as he watched Oliver tear open a liquid castile soap packet and squeeze it into the uncapped enema bag before walking across to the sink to fill it. Howard had given enemas, he knew what to expect and he knew that done right it shouldn't really hurt. He also knew that it could hurt a great deal if the administrator wanted it to.


"Howard, I would prefer you to relax," Oliver said calmly as he returned to the table. He hung the bulging bag on the IV pole and unkinked the attached tubing and connected it to a tapered nozzle. He opened the valve, letting the water descend until a bit flowed from the nozzle onto the tiled floor.


Howard trembled at the sight, his bowels clenching. He feared this invasion and the indignity of losing control more than he dared admit even to himself.


Oliver watched as Howard paled and stroked Howard's hip gently, noting how Howard tensed resentfully at even the slight kindness. "Breathe. There's no reason to make this any more difficult for yourself than it has to be." Oliver picked up an uncapped tube and squeezed a gob of gel onto his fingers. Spreading Howard's buttocks, Oliver lubricated his tight anus, positioned the slender nozzle carefully and eased it past the tense muscle. He wasn't cruel, just efficient. He unclamped the clear tube, letting a stream of warm water move inward.


Howard panted as the water expanded his bowels. It didn't hurt, but it frightened him and he heard his own unwilling whimper of distress. With a sudden shock he recognized the sound: Alan had made the same whimper, deep in his throat, when the metal butt plug had been forced into his ass.


Alan had cried then, Howard remembered. Then Howard's own bowels started to hurt for real, and all Howard's memories vanished in the present sensations of pain. Howard's intestines cramped and he tensed, afraid, unwilling tears distorting his vision. It hurt, it hurt a lot.


Oliver massaged Howard's belly, easing the spasms. Howard felt a wave of gratitude, which only made him feel more humiliated. To be grateful to the man who was doing this to him? Howard's pride rose in his throat, choking him. He moaned inarticulately.

 

"I think that's about all you can take," Oliver said, well after Howard felt it was enough. Clamping the hose, he withdrew the nozzle and substituted a well lubricated medium sized butt plug before Howard could do more than quiver reflexively.


"You need to hold that," Oliver said. "Just a few more minutes, Howard, that's a good boy."


Boy! Howard's mind rebelled further at the affectionate appellation; he hated, loathed and despised having it applied to himself.


Not that Oliver cared whether Howard approved his choice of words. He rubbed Howard's knotting belly, feeling Howard tense against him. Finally he helped Howard to the toilet, removed the butt plug and seated him briskly and mercifully stepped away, his back turned, while Howard relieved himself.


"Into the shower, please," Oliver said. "Turn around and hold onto the handles on the wall. I want to make sure you're clean."


Shaky, sore and deeply unhappy, Howard obeyed. Oliver hosed him down with practiced skill, more thorough than gentle. The water was just warm enough that the soap Oliver sponged over Howard lathered, but not warm enough to make Howard comfortable. He twisted away from the spray.


"Chilly?" Oliver asked, and Howard wasn't sure whether it was amusement or something else, a warning, that he thought he heard in Oliver's tone. He couldn't answer in any case; the severe gag was still tightly secured. He scowled at Oliver; Oliver didn't respond to his look and continued to play cool water over him until all traces of soap were rinsed away.


Oliver wrapped a bath sheet around Howard and walked him toward the padded bench.

 

"Be a cooperative boy, Howard. Remember, there are worse things than an over the knee spanking." Oliver seated himself and easily turned a surprised Howard over his lap. "You don't glare at me, Howard. I'm going to give you a lesson in what happens here when you do."


Oliver unwrapped the towel so that Howard's back, buttocks and thighs were fully exposed. For a minute he stroked the still damp flesh with a deceptively gentle hand. Howard quivered, unnerved by the sensation. Oliver petted Howard's thighs, coaxing them apart, and Howard began to tremble, genuinely scared. With a swift tug at the strap crossing the back of Howard's head, Oliver swiftly undid the gag. It fell to the floor with a soft thud.


"I'm going to spank you now, Howard." The words were barely out of Oliver's mouth before his hand fell for the first time across the warm and tender buttocks.


Howard jerked at the impact and then stiffened, willing himself to endure silently. He gritted his teeth and endured the series of hard slaps Oliver delivered without allowing himself a whimper.


Oliver spanked Howard until Howard was writhing over his lap. Still Howard was silent.

"Sore, Howard? Had enough? All you have to do is say "please" and I'll stop."


Howard shook his head in a defiant "no," precisely as Oliver had anticipated.

 

"All right then, Howard," Oliver said, unsurprised, yet silently regretting that Howard had chosen to tough out the punishment. "I gave you your chance. Now I'm going to spank you until *I* feel it's enough." Reaching into his pocket, Oliver produced a small leather paddle and continued to spank Howard until his ass was glowing and his thighs were swollen. Howard ground his teeth together and stayed silent despite the excruciating pain. Oliver stopped just shy of bruising Howard and eased him to his feet.


"That hurt, didn't it?" Oliver said sympathetically.


"Sonofabitch," Howard spat at him through the mingled fluids that covered his red and white mottled face. He didn't anticipate Oliver's swift production of yet another gag. Before Howard had a chance to protest or apologize, the new and larger ball gag had been thrust between his teeth and fastened snugly around his head, silencing him again.


"You'll be polite or you'll be silent. Sit back up on the table, please," Oliver said, He noted Howard's wince as his tender buttocks met the stainless steel. "It hurts, I know, but you're going to be a good boy now, aren't you? Here, let me clean you up a bit. Oliver took a damp washcloth and gently wiped the residue of sweat, tears and saliva from Howard’s face. “That's got to feel better."


Howard sat stiffly, hating that Oliver was seeing him in this disheveled condition, resenting his own helplessness and wishing he didn’t feel so damn grateful for the care Oliver was showing.


Setting the washcloth aside, Oliver eased Howard down on his back. "Legs up here," he coaxed as he helped Howard find the stirrups with his heels. Howard was too overwhelmed to either struggle or cooperate; he merely lay still and let Oliver manipulate his body like a mannequin's. "Open your eyes, Howard."


Howard hadn't realized he had closed them. He opened them to find Oliver studying him avidly. He took in Howard’s reddened eyes, the flush of embarrassment at his position that stained his cheeks and his gritted teeth. He stroked Howard’s hair gently back from his forehead, feeling Howard stiffen at his touch.


Oliver took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to require of Howard. This next step would be the hardest yet, the biggest emotional violation and the most physically uncomfortable. He thought Howard was ready for it, but he knew Howard would be shocked by it. It was necessary, though. "All right, Howard,” Oliver said, well aware of how much Howard disliked his vulnerable position,” “Let's move on." There was a clanking sound and the examining table shook slightly as Oliver dropped the collapsible end and came to stand between Howard's spread legs.


Howard tensed as Oliver spread his punished buttocks and examined his anus carefully with a curious finger. He didn't like anal play, he much preferred to be the active rather than the receptive partner in sex, and he had the distinct feeling that his likes and preferences were going to count for absolutely nothing.


"Look at me," Oliver said quietly, displaying a good sized butt plug. "This is going inside you, Howard. If you relax it will only hurt for a moment. You did much worse than this to your Alan." He took a gob of lubricant on his fingers and slicked the plug, then positioned the hard silicon object between Howard's cheeks and pushed inward, withdrew it a fraction of an inch, then pressed it forward again.

  

"Be a good boy." Oliver sensed Howard's mounting panic as he realized what was happening. "You have no choices here."


Howard arched his back, his muscles spasming convulsively, as Oliver turned the plug, better distributing its lubrication, and pressed it home. It hurt, it hurt a lot, and worse than the pain was the realization that there was absolutely nothing he could do to resist the intimate invasion.


As if to emphasize Howard's total lack of control, Oliver leaned in, pressing the heel of his hand into Howard's abdomen over his bladder, compressing it. Howard felt his urine begin to spill from his flaccid cock.


It was a strange sensation and it made Howard shiver from the intimacy of it. Oliver had made his point; Howard understood the extent of his own helplessness. Oliver reached overhead for the hose.


"Good boy," Oliver crooned, as he used a stream of cool water to wash the traces of urine from Howard's limp body and from the table. The water vanished quickly into the central drain in the tiled floor. Howard trembled, utterly humiliated and accepting the futility of resisting further.


"Good boy," Oliver repeated. Helping Howard upright, Oliver wrapped him in a heated, oversized towel, tipped him over his shoulder in the classic fireman's carry, and taking a few steps across the hall, deposited him in the massive bed at the center of the room. Oliver stripped himself and, unwrapping the towel, took the naked, totally drained Howard in his arms.


"There now, was that so frightening?" It was a rhetorical question. Oliver knew it had been, but he wanted Howard to have to acknowledge, if only to himself, just how much so.


Terrifying, Howard thought to himself, not wanting to admit it, but unable to deny how scared he was. He lay quietly as Oliver stroked his back, nape to tender buttocks, no fight at all left in him. At this moment he would have let Oliver do almost anything at all to him if it meant avoiding another spanking or another invasion of his most intimate opening.


"Good boy," Oliver praised him yet again, gently wiping the tears tracking Howard's cheeks. That Howard was crying was a good omen. "I'm going to take the gag out again now, Howard. Speech is a privilege, not a right. Speak respectfully or I'll reinsert it." He slipped the harsh gag free.


"--essir," Howard mumbled, his mouth feeling strange and his jaw uncomfortably widened. Oliver massaged the pressure points at the hinge of his jaw gently.


"I know, it hurts a little. Well, that can't be helped. If you keep a civil tongue in your head we won't need this often," Oliver said.


"Yes, sir," Howard whispered.


"Good boy." Oliver saw Howard cringe at the repetition of the hated phrase. He rolled Howard onto his back. Touched his flaccid cock, pressed his hand gently into his belly. Stroked his inner thighs. Howard lay quietly without struggling. "You're being such a good boy now."


"Thank you, sir," Howard said, hoping that was the right response, wanting desperately not to incur further punishment. His muscles clenched reflexively around the butt plug, unable to contract completely. He struggled to keep from begging Oliver to remove the hateful object, knowing that he would have punished a submissive who had had the temerity to ask for such a thing. However it was miserably uncomfortable.


"You're to call me Oliver, not sir, please. Sit up now, Howard." Oliver propped Howard back against the pillows.


Howard tried not to yelp as his well paddled buttocks took his weight. He felt the butt plug shift in him, moving deeper, and panted desperately through the uncomfortable sensation. "Ow," he moaned, to his shame.


"It hurts, I know," Oliver said with genuine sympathy. "You've just had a spanking and an enema and you've got a solid piece of silicone wedged up your ass. I'm sure it hurts right now."


Howard was at a loss for a response. He hadn't expected Oliver to empathize with his distress. Certainly he had never acknowledged pain in his own submissives, except to reprimand them for not bearing it better. He felt a rush of unwanted gratitude and had to work hard to steady his breathing.


"Poor Howard. It's been a long evening and you must be tired and hungry as well. You haven't had dinner, I'm sure." Oliver turned to the bedside table, where a covered bowl had been left. He picked it up." I'm going to feed you now." Oliver reached for a spoon.

  

"I can feed myself!" Howard protested reflexively. "And I'm not hungry," he added, food being the last thing on his mind at the moment.


"Another word and I'll gag you again," Oliver said sharply. He uncovered the soup. "Howard, I can spoon feed you, or I can use a special gag to force your mouth open, insert a tube through it and feed you like that. Trust me, you won't like it." It was no idle threat. Oliver was determined that Howard would accept sustenance from his hand, either the easy way or the hard way.


Howard had seen pictures of such gags; the thought of being subjected to one was truly terrifying. He had no trouble imagining Oliver using such a device on him. Oliver's readiness to intrude on his body's most basic functions had been made amply clear. Still, the thought of passively accepting the spoon Oliver now held in front of his lips was humiliating.


"This is your last chance to cooperate before I gag you and force feed you." Oliver gave the image a moment to sink in. "Now open your mouth."


To Oliver's relief, Howard obeyed his command. While Oliver would have followed through on his threat if he had had to, he disliked using food as punishment and did it only as a last resort. He genuinely enjoyed spoon feeding his new boys; he felt it was important that they became accustomed to receiving pleasure as well as pain at his hand. Despite his ability to deliver pain without flinching, he was not actually a cruel man and he was glad for the parts of the process that allowed the softer side of his nature free expression.


Howard swallowed the thin, innocuous soup quietly, his eyes cast downward, all fight drained from him at the moment. He was overwhelmed by the few hours he'd been in Oliver's charge. Had it been only this afternoon that he had been thinking that this program would be easy to get through? He'd imagined lectures, perhaps some hands on practice, some discussions, some new agenda to learn and repeat...nothing like this. This wasn't a program as he'd understood it as much as this was being held hostage at the hands of a possibly sadistic madman. His jaw ached, his backside was sore and his ass clenched miserably around the unyielding butt plug. Save for the fact that he was too proud and too stubborn to give in, he would have used his safe word.


But even as his rational mind balked at the idea that this was a legitimate program, Howard felt himself spiraling down deeper into the submissive space the program was designed to inculcate in the right kind of subjects. Humiliating and exquisitely painful as the procedures he'd been subjected to were, he felt strangely peaceful at the knowledge that he had absolutely no choice but to submit. Nothing that had been done had really harmed him. Even the pain had been transitory and at some level, the eroticism of being so totally controlled called to him. He sighed and yawned, unaware that his responses were already becoming more overt and less guarded.


"Tired, Howard?" Oliver's hand was gentle as he patted the few strayed drops of soup from his lips and chin with a damp cloth. "I'd be surprised if you weren't. All right then, let's make another trip to the bathroom and then it's bedtime." He helped Howard to his feet.


Howard shifted uncomfortably as Oliver walked him into the bathroom and, standing at his back, took his limp cock in his hand and positioned it over the toilet. "I can–"


Oliver pressed his heavy hand against Howard's lower abdomen. "Let go, or do you want another spanking?" Oliver's warning settled Howard and he submitted with ill grace. Oliver walked him back to bed and indicated that he was to lie down on the mattress on his side. Howard squirmed as Oliver manipulated the butt plug inside him, pumping it deeper and rotating it from side to side. He tried not to protest the unaccustomed sensations out loud, hoping Oliver would take the invader out if he were quiet and cooperative.


"You can sleep like this," Oliver said, satisfied that there was still enough lubricant surrounding it that the plug would not do any damage to tender tissues. "It will make your morning easier."


"Sleep with this up my ass?" Howard yelped in disbelief. Oliver swatted his sore buttocks, hard, and Howard's protest subsided instantly. Afraid of another spanking, done in by exhaustion and drained from his introduction to the retraining program, Howard slept despite himself.


Once he was sure Howard wouldn't wake up again, Oliver stood and stretched. He took a long, hot shower, rolling his head, relaxing the muscles in his neck. The intense and forceful intimacy of the evening had left him deeply aroused. He caressed his cock, enjoying the sensations of the water and his hand, remembering Howard's struggle to accept the butt plug and anticipating what it would be like to penetrate that tight, hot passageway with his own flesh. He came hard, his cum spattering the walls of the shower, and stood panting as the water washed everything away. He dried off and padded, naked, back to the bedroom. He spooned himself around Howard, who was so deeply asleep that he didn't even move as Oliver curled around him and kissed the back of his head. More pleased with Howard than he had any logical reason to be, Oliver fell into a sound and satisfied sleep.


Chapter 3


Howard awoke the next morning to the swell of Oliver's cock against his back. He tensed, hoping to pull away before Oliver woke, but it was a futile hope. He felt Oliver's hand exploring his stiffened cock, toying with the butt plug that distended him. As the memory of the previous night returned to him he shivered with humiliation, remembering how exposed he'd been and how vulnerable he must have appeared before Oliver. Before he could gather the shredded remnants of his pride around him, he heard Oliver's quiet command in his ear.


"Good morning, Howard. Roll over now, up on your hands and knees, drop your head, I'm going to take you from behind." Oliver helped Howard into position. Howard groaned as the butt plug was eased from his ass, the bulge of it stretching his sphincter as it emerged, leaving him empty and slightly sore. The emptiness lasted only a few seconds; Oliver slicked his cock heavily with lube and without waiting, pressed slowly into Howard. Howard gasped at the penetration, tender from a night spent distended and unused to being taken this way and then tried, panting, to relax into Oliver's rhythm of deep, easy strokes. Oliver moved slowly, aware of Howard's clenching channel, taking most of the friction on the backstroke. He was going to make Howard take this, there was no question of Howard being allowed to refuse his penetration, but he took care not to make the process any more painful than it had to be. It was actually a very gentle, if thorough, fucking, even though it did not feel in the least gentle to Howard. Howard's own morning erection was gone in the welter of sensations, his head spun and he swallowed hard. If he got one of his headaches, it would be impossible to endure another day. Fear only exacerbated the incipient pain in his head.


Oliver thrust harder and deeper into Howard as he came, feeling Howard spasm as his heavy cock jerked inside him. "What a good boy." Oliver withdrew, satisfied, and patted Howard's backside in approval.


Howard tensed and shivered, his ass gripping painfully. Being fucked had hurt and he'd had no say whatsoever in whether or not to allow it, it had simply happened to him. He felt miserable.


"Bathroom, please," Oliver said briskly.


Confused and ashamed, Howard moved as Oliver directed him. He stood before the toilet, not resisting as Oliver took his limp cock in his hand and directed it over the bowl.


"Pee," Oliver said, canting his hips to hold Howard in place and pressing strongly down on Howard's bladder with his other hand. "Let go, Howard, or I'll catheterize you."


Howard’s eyes widened at the threat and he willed himself not to fight the pressure of Oliver’s hand or the sensation of needing to pee, but he flushed red as his urine dribbled from his cock into the bowl.


"Good boy. That's it, let go, it'll be easier if you don't fight me," Oliver said. "Up on the table now; I want to clean you out."


The inevitable enema was a more intimidating prospect than ever. Howard was already sore and he knew it would be worse because of that. He sighed resignedly, already quite sure there would be no reprieve, and getting onto the table, rolled onto his side as Oliver had positioned him the first time.


"Good boy," Oliver praised him. He didn't gag Howard and Howard was silent as his anus was slicked with lube and the tip of the long tube pressed inward.


When the inevitable cramps hit, Oliver rubbed Howard's belly encouragingly, and Howard tried to breathe through the contractions in his intestines. A few minutes wait, and Oliver ushered Howard to the toilet, turned his back and let him empty himself with some privacy.


Howard steadied his breathing. He had survived the worst Oliver could throw at him this morning. He felt a sharp spike of pride in his own ability to endure. He'd gotten through the first day of the program and he hadn't let himself down. He drew a deep breath, feeling his accustomed aura of control settle comfortably around him like a familiar garment. His expression hardened as he looked over at Oliver, who had turned on the taps over the bath.


"I'd prefer a shower, please," Howard said.


"Would you?" Oliver looked amused. "Ah well, you're having a bath. Now be quiet or I'll gag you again."


Bastard, Howard thought to himself, but he didn't reply out loud. Being gagged had been extremely unpleasant and he had no desire to subject himself to a repeat of that experience.


"Come here now, into the tub with you." Oliver watched as Howard cautiously lowered himself into the warm bath.


Howard had to admit that the bath was a great deal more comfortable than the chilly hose down he'd been subjected to the previous day, but still the hot water stung his tender anus and renewed the heat in his paddled backside. He froze as Oliver approached him with a razor in his hand.


“Stay very still now,” Oliver cautioned Howard as he lathered his face. He shaved Howard as Howard lay quietly in the tub. Howard had always liked being pampered by his barber and Oliver’s ministrations reminded him strongly of that pleasure. To Oliver’s surprise, Howard seemed to enjoy being shaved rather than be stressed by it. Oliver made a mental note to explore this interesting observation later.


"I'm going to clean you now," Oliver said. He used a washcloth to methodically go over every inch of Howard's body. While he had enjoyed the shaving, Howard disliked being washed. He particularly resented the friction of the cloth on his tender nether regions. Only the certainty that Oliver had meant his earlier threat about gagging him again kept him from reacting with words rather than sullen silence.


Oliver could feel Howard drawing into himself again and he wasn't about to have it. "Roll over a little, I want to make sure you're clean," he said, grasping Howard's hip and rolling him partway toward the wall. He soaped his other hand and pressed his index finger into Howard's already sore opening.


"Ow!" Howard yelped despite himself. The combination of soap and pressure stung.


Oliver held him more firmly in place, rotating his finger inside the pink and swollen sphincter. "I know it's uncomfortable, but this will only take a moment." He withdrew and let Howard resettle on his back. "Try and push outward, it'll help open you to the water and it'll sting less."


Howard wasn't sure that he wanted to expose himself any more fully to the warm water, but he tightened his stomach and pressed downward, willing to try anything to quiet the maddening sting.


"Good boy," Oliver said as he watched Howard's attempt to comply. "Stand up now and step out. It's time to dry off." Reaching for a towel, he rubbed Howard down briskly, not sparing his rump. Howard shifted from foot to foot, trying not to let on how much it hurt.


"I see you still have some color," Oliver said, stroking the pink buttocks. "Very nice." His cock hardened as he felt Howard's muscles tense as he caressed the tender skin. "Move!" A light swat had Howard jumping forward toward the bedroom.

 

"On the bed, on your stomach, Howard," Oliver said without preliminaries. "Open your legs."


Howard's heart sunk and he was slow in complying. Oliver swatted him smartly, leaving white hand prints on his warm, damp buttocks. Accepting the inevitable, Howard parted his legs. He tried not to tighten against Oliver's lubricating finger.


"Relax," Oliver warned him. He took a syringe of lubricant and eased the tip of it into Howard.


"What are you doing?" Howard tightened against the plastic cylinder, panic in his voice.

  

"Helping you out," Oliver said. "I'm going to fuck you again and I don't want to hurt you. Now relax and let me squirt some of this gel a little deeper up you or it's really going to hurt."


This was a new procedure to Howard and while he could understand the logic of it, the sensation was unpleasant and made it impossible to deny what was going to happen next. He was soft and anything but aroused and the thought of being penetrated a second time this morning was distinctly unpleasant.


Oliver took Howard kindly, but without any regard for Howard's excitement or lack of it. Howard felt Oliver's cock working in him, and though he didn't resist and it didn't actually hurt, he began to cry. Oliver noticed his tears, but didn't relent. Being fucked was simply something Howard had to accept. It took Oliver a long time to come, as he had already satisfied himself once that morning, and Howard was crying hard by the end, his misery clear. Yet Howard didn't struggle to escape, seeming to have accepted that he had no choice but to endure.


"Good boy," Oliver praised Howard afterward. He took a wad of tissues and patted Howard's face dry and Howard let himself be held. "Here, lie back, let me help you." He rubbed Howard's lower abdomen in slow, gentle circles, soothing the tender organs inside. "You were very good. Sit up now, I want you to eat something."


"I'm not–"


"Hungry. Yes, I know. What did I tell you last night?" Oliver asked.


"I remember!" Howard said hastily. "I'll be good!"


"Open your mouth then," Oliver said. He spooned the cooked cereal that had somehow appeared at the bedside into Howard's mouth, taking his time, making sure that Howard had swallowed each mouthful before presenting the next one. "I am going to feed you like this until I feel you are ready for the privilege of eating by yourself, Howard. Next time I tell you to eat, I don't want to hear no. There are far less pleasant ways I can do this, as I'm sure you can imagine."


Howard nodded a frantic yes, well aware of the sort of gags and tubes that existed and terrified at the thought of being subjected to any of them. Eating from Oliver's hand might be humiliating, but it didn't hurt, and at the moment, with his stomach cramping and his ass contracting painfully, avoiding any more pain seemed a very good idea.


"All right, Howard, that should hold you until lunch," Oliver said. He put the bowl and spoon aside and wiped Howard's mouth. "Go brush your teeth and use the toilet if you have to and then come back here. You'll find toothpaste and an electric toothbrush in the cabinet over the sink."


Howard was glad to be allowed even the modicum of privacy Oliver's command dictated. Although there was no door to the room, it was a great deal better to be there alone than with Oliver at his back. He finished swiftly and returned to the bedroom, to find Oliver seated on the side of the bed. Next to him on a neatly folded hand towel was a tube of lubricant and a torpedo shaped butt plug. Howard froze, trying not to panic.


"Come here, Howard," Oliver said calmly. "Over my lap, please."


Howard came unwillingly closer, the plug looming larger, thicker and more foreboding as he got a better view of it.


"You're taking too long," Oliver said briskly. He stood, taking Howard's arm and reseated himself, bringing Howard down with him, face first over his lap. "If you don't obey when I tell you to do something, I will spank you." His palm slapped smartly across the crown of Howard's buttocks. Back and forth he alternated, spanking lower and lower until he reached the backs of Howard's thighs. He administered a few sharp smacks to Howard's thighs as Howard tensed and shifted miserably, trying to take the spanking with good grace. Oliver's attention returned to the reddening buttocks and he spanked the previously covered areas again, evening out the mottled red and white hand prints into an solid red glow.


Howard twisted and panted, trying not to cry out, cursing inwardly at the pain. His body remained stiff and unyielding and after awhile, Oliver stopped, convinced that further spanking wouldn't take Howard any further down.


"It would have been easier if you'd just cooperated in the first place, Howard," Oliver said. "And it will hurt less if you can stop clenching." He picked up the tube and squeezed an ample amount of lubricant onto his fingers. He slicked the butt plug and then applied a generous glob of gel to Howard's anus. Howard's buttocks contracted and Oliver pressed them apart with his hand as he probed the swollen pink orifice. "You're tender, but you're not damaged," he said to Howard after running his index finger over the swelling and pushing deeper inside, rotating his hand. "You need to relax or this is going to hurt a good deal." He placed the rounded tip of the thick cylinder against Howard's opening. It flared in a wide bulge and then tapered to a narrower neck, ending with a thick base that would prevent it from becoming lost inside. "If you fight me on this, I'll spank you some more and then I'll insert it anyway," he warned Howard.


"It hurts!" Howard cried out piteously as Oliver pressed the butt plug into him. "Please stop, please, I can't–"


"You can and you will," Oliver told him, holding the butt plug in place with just the tip inserted. "Do you remember what your safe word is? Mercy?"


Howard nodded his head.


"Do you want to use it, Howard? All you have to do is say "mercy" and everything stops. Is that what you want, Howard?"


"No!" Howard cried. "I'm not quitting, Oliver, fuck you. Ow!"


Oliver had responded to Howard's curse with a sharp slap across his tender buttocks.


"Do not curse at me. Howard, this butt plug is going to go up your ass and you're going to wear it until I decide you're had enough. If you cooperate with me, it's going to hurt a lot less than if you don't. Now bear down as if you were having a bowel movement, it will be easier that way."


"I can't take it!" Howard protested. "It's too large, I can't–" His words became an inarticulate groan as Oliver pressed the solid object into him despite his resistance. "It hurts! It hurts!"


"I know it does," Oliver said, removing his hand as the butt plug locked into place, Howard's sphincter clenching around the narrow neck. He reached for Howard's shriveled cock and rolled it gently in his hand and caressed his perineum, knowing that the stimulation would make the pain more bearable. "It'll be better very soon, I promise. It's only a little larger than the butt plug you slept with and it's smaller than my cock, Howard. You just need to relax and let your body get used to the sensation."


Howard continued to twitch and moan with lessening intensity over Oliver's lap for the next two minutes as the sharp pain began to soften. "That hurt, that hurt so much," Howard dashed at the tears of pain that had slid down his cheeks.


"You are going to have to become accustomed to accepting my presence in your body," Oliver said in a matter of fact tone of voice. "My cock, when I choose to fuck you, my fingers when I choose to insert them, and the butt plugs of my choosing when I choose to penetrate you that way. It is part of your training and whether or not it hurts, you are going to have to learn to endure it. If you refuse to cooperate next time, I will paddle you as well as spank you beforehand."


"That's not fair!" Howard protested.


"Oh?" Oliver's voice hardened. "You have no say in what's fair or unfair here, Howard. And if you don't stop complaining now, I will spank you again with the butt plug in place, and I assure you, you do not want that."


"I'll be good," Howard said softly, all fight gone from his voice. He drooped miserably over Oliver's lap.


Oliver stroked Howard's tender ass gently. He toyed with the base of the butt plug, pressing it deeper into Howard, then withdrawing it slightly so that the wider part of the bulge tugged against the inside of Howard's sphincter. Howard moaned, but didn't resist. "Now you're being a good boy. Stay like that over my lap. I'm going to ask you some questions and I expect honest answers."


Howard sniffled and Oliver shifted backward and eased Howard's torso onto the bed alongside him, so that by turning slightly he could see his face, while still keeping his hand on his butt. "Comfortable?"


What a ludicrous question! Howard gulped unhappily. "It hurts," he said softly.


"I know your butt hurts, inside and out," Oliver said. "I want to know if this position is comfortable, if anything else feels cramped or pinched. You're going to be here for quite some time and I want you to be able to relax."


"Relaxing with this thing up my ass is not out there," Howard said, shifting uncomfortably.

"That's something you're going to have to accept," Oliver said. "You are going to be undergoing some extensive anal training and your muscles are going to have to be stretched slowly or it's going to be very painful. Eventually I am going to fist you and–"


"Fist me? No!" Howard exclaimed. "Ow, don't," he moaned as Oliver spanked him sharply.


"You do not tell me no," Oliver said implacably. "I am not going to damage you, but you are going to have to accept that some of the things I will do to you may not be painless or particularly to your liking. This is part of the program and you are simply going to have to accept it or else use your safe word and leave."


"I'm not quitting," Howard said. "But..." His voice trailed off.


"Good boy," Oliver said, rubbing his back gently. "That's it, relax, you don't have to do anything but what I tell you to. You're not in charge here; I am. I'm going to take good care of you. Nothing is going to happen before you're ready."


"I wasn't ready for this," Howard said softly. "I didn't know this was what the program was going to be like."


"Would you have believed us, if we had told you?" Oliver asked. "Or would you have thought that we were exaggerating, that we couldn't possibly expect you to accept this level of control?"


"I don't know," Howard said.


"All right, that's honest at least. You'll have plenty of time to think about the question," Oliver said. "I want you to stand up now." He helped Howard to his feet. "Come here." Leading Howard a corner of the room, he turned him toward the wall. "Stand here until I tell you otherwise."


"But–" Howard protested, starting to turn around. Howard seized his arm and bent him over his hip, pinning him close.


"Stand! Here! Until! I! Tell! You! Otherwise!" A sharp spank accompanied each word and several of them jarred the base of the butt plug, making Howard twist and yelp as the object's sharp movements hit sensitive places deep inside. Helping Howard straighten up, Oliver turned him back toward the wall. "I know it's hard, Howard, but you need to obey me."


"Yes!" Howard yelped, his ass clenching at the unfamiliar sensations, his already sore buttocks stinging with fresh heat. "I'm sorry! I'll do it, I will. Please don't spank me." A sudden memory of Alan begging in that exact same way struck him. He remembered his response, he had slapped Alan across the face and Alan had fallen to the floor. He cringed as he remembered dragging Alan up by his hair and yelling at him as he shoved him into the corner. He realized that Oliver had done none of those things, simply patted his butt lightly and left him standing there alone. He shivered, wondering for the first time if there had been some truth to Alan's accusations. The shiver tightened his ass and made him even more aware of the plug inside. It didn't hurt as much as serve as a constant reminder that he was under Oliver's total control. If Oliver wanted him to stand here, feeling the solid heft of the plug within, still feeling raw from being fucked and spanked after a deep enema, he had to submit. He had to trust Oliver to be watching him and to know what he was doing. Oh god, this was hard and the spanking had hurt and the butt plug felt as if was getting larger as his internal muscles stretched to accommodate it. It hurt, he hurt, and he was very sorry when Oliver finally came to the corner and led him back to the bed.


"It's going to hurt worse coming out," Oliver warned him. "On your side, please, knee up to your chest, that's it. I'm going to ease it out." He was as gentle as he could be, but still Howard panted as the swell of the plug distended his opening as it was removed. "I'm just going to check you out now, try and relax." Oliver inserted a lubricated finger and circled Howard's sphincter slowly and carefully, checking for abrasions or rough spots. "Good boy."


"Hurts," Howard whimpered.


"You're not torn, you're just sore," Oliver said. "I'm going to insert an antibiotic suppository in order to make sure any minor damage is taken care of. Just try and relax for me for a minute." He slit open the small foil package with a fingernail and removed a small, waxy bullet. He saw Howard clench his buttocks in anticipation. "Look at it, Howard, it's very small, practically nothing. Try and relax and it won't hurt as I put it in place." He place the tip of the suppository against Howard's anus and eased it beyond his tender sphincter with a careful push. "There, all done. This way we'll be sure there's no inflammation or minute tears that could cause problems."


Maybe this means he's not going to put anything else up my ass today, Howard thought hopefully. He was so sore that he was sure he would cry if he had to take Oliver's cock or another butt plug again.


"We're going to go for a walk," Oliver said. "There are sweats for you on the chair in the anteroom where you left your clothing last night. Please go get them and put them on. You'll also find socks and sneakers; put them on as well."


"Yes sir," Howard said.


"Oliver, not sir," Oliver reminded him. "I want you to use my name because I want you to be very aware that I am the only person you have to account to while you're here. We are going to get to know each other very well and you are going to learn my expectations and hopefully do your best to fulfill them."


"Yes, Oliver."


"Then why are you waiting? Go get dressed!"


Howard darted out of the room, having taken to heart the lesson in obedience that Oliver had administered that morning. He had no wish to be turned over Oliver's lap again for being slow. He dressed quickly, not surprised that the sweats fit well and that the sneakers were the proper size. Le Plaisir's management had always been punctilious in its regard for the details of its members' pleasure; it made sense that the program should not be any less so. It was reassuring to realize this and know that despite the fact that Oliver seemed to be allowed to use him at will, at some level his well being was a matter of concern to Le Plaisir. It made Howard feel subtly better about his miserable morning and made him feel that he was indeed in a program that was designed to help him despite its rigors.


"We are going for a walk," Oliver told Howard. "And I do mean walk, not run. We will not be leaving the club's property, which means we have total privacy. Therefore if I order you to undress or service me sexually or anything else of that nature, you may do so in total safety. That said, understand that I will not tolerate any hesitation on your part. Is that understood?"


"Yes, Oliver," Howard said, the slight lift of reassurance he had felt while dressing vanishing abruptly. He had no idea what Oliver had planned for him, but it didn't sound very pleasant.


Chapter 4


It was a beautiful day, warm but not cloying, and Oliver set a brisk pace across the lawn into the woods on the other side. Despite his discomfort Howard managed to keep up. Oliver seemed to know the trails behind the house and settled on one that seemed to lead toward the back of the property.


Howard paused as the woods opened up into scrub and then onto dunes. It was hard walking on the sand and he lagged behind.


"Sore?" Oliver asked.


"A little," Howard said cautiously.


"Come here, I want to take a look and make sure you're all right," Oliver said. Reluctantly Howard walked to his side and let Oliver tug his sweats down so that his ass was bare. "Bend forward, hands on your knees, I want to examine you." Howard did as he was told. "You're not bleeding and the swelling's going down," Oliver said. "You'll be fine by this evening. A little salt water bathing will probably help tighten things up again, too. Strip, please." He did the same himself.


Howard tried not to stare at Oliver's well muscled chest and tight abdomen, his taut thighs and trim butt. He was in excellent shape.


Howard undressed, unhappy about revealing his well spanked butt even to Oliver. He knew it was irrational, that Oliver had administered the spanking, but he still felt embarrassed to have to reveal himself in the unforgiving sunlight.


"Into the water," Oliver said, striding toward the beach. Howard followed.


"It's cold!" Howard exclaimed, as a wave broke high on the shore, over his feet. "Shit, are we going to swim in that?"


Oliver looked amused. "Certainly," he said. "It's very healthy. Good for the circulation. Come on, in we go."


Howard felt himself shriveling as they walked deeper into the water, but he was certain that protesting would only get him spanked again and that kind of warming up he didn't need. He let Oliver tug him past the breaking waves to where the water was deeper and smoother.


"Swim to me," Oliver coaxed. Howard did and Oliver drew him closer and kissed him. "Good boy."


Howard shivered, both from the cold of the water and from shame at being called boy and feeling himself responding with pleasure to it. How was it possible that Oliver could have this effect on him?


Oliver reached for Howard's cock and caressed it underwater, his hand dipping lower to gently press against Howard's balls. He turned Howard so that his ass was pressed against Oliver's cock.


"Don't–" Howard said, then bit his tongue.


"Hush, I won't without more lubrication," Oliver said. Howard was less than reassured. "Come, let's go dry off in the cabana and I'll see what I can come up with."


Howard looked where Oliver was directing him and realized that there was a small cabana on the beach that he hadn't spied before. Oliver led him inside. The little house was well stocked with towels. Oliver wrapped one around Howard and rubbed him dry briskly before attending to himself. He reached into a basket and withdrew a single use packet of lube. "Where shall we do this, inside or outside?" Oliver wondered out loud. "Inside is better, I think. Sand feels so much less romantic than it looks. Here, Howard, bend over the end of this couch, that should put you at about the right height for me."


"Please, Oliver, I'm so sore, don't do this to me," Howard begged.


"You're a little sore, but you're not damaged, and I'm hard," Oliver said, gesturing to his own cock. "So be a good boy and bend over." He waited for Howard's reluctant compliance.


Howard tried not to tense as Oliver spread his buttocks and lubricated his opening carefully and thoroughly. To his great relief, Oliver opened a second tube of lubricant and slicked his own cock carefully. "Deep breath, Howard, Blow out, that's it, I'm going to fuck you now. That's it, take my cock, all of it, you did it before, you can so do this." Oliver pressed deeper, feeling Howard clench and tighten as his cock revisited sore and recently stretched regions.


Howard started to cry.


"Is it that bad?" Oliver asked. "Answer me or I'm just going to fuck you until I come. Is it that bad?"


"It's hurting a lot," Howard said. "Please, Oliver, it really, really hurts!"


To his surprise, Oliver withdrew. He seated himself on the couch, adjusting his still hard cock and his balls comfortably. "Come on then, over my lap."


"Are you going to spank me again?" Howard asked anxiously, but he had learned his lesson about disobedience that morning and he assumed the position he'd been told to.


"Not if you cooperate," Oliver said, inserting a slick finger in Howard's anus and fucking him gently with it. "I want you to come for me, Howard, without touching yourself. You can move over my lap, you can rub your cock against my thighs, but I don't want you to use your hands. I'm going to fuck you with my fingers, in and out, until you come for me. Try and relax and it will go much easier. Don't make me punish you for resisting." Oliver pressed a second finger in alongside the first and Howard moaned incoherently. Oliver crooked the twinned fingers, scraping them over Howard's prostate, and Howard's head shot up as he kicked out frantically, unsure if the sensation he was experiencing was more pleasure or more pain. "That's it, Howard, let yourself go, I'm going to make you come like this. Let me hear you, Howard, tell me how it feels."


"Feels? Oh god it hurts, it fucking hurts," Howard moaned.


"Is it all pain," Oliver asked. "Or does this feel good, too?" Again he raked his fingers over Howard's prostate and again Howard tightened and strained upward on his lap.


"Please stop, please," Howard begged. "Oh god Oliver, it feels so strange, please stop, I can't do what you want me to, I physically can't."


"Oh, I think you can," Oliver said thoughtfully. "And I have a little toy here that is really going to help you. Lie down on the couch, face down, and don't move." He got up without bothering to look over his shoulder to see if Howard had obeyed.


Howard had, his curiosity whetted at the same time as he was frightened of what Oliver intended.


Oliver found a slender, curved dildo in a cabinet and returned with it, a towel and a handful more of the single use tubes of lubricant. Reseating himself, he draped the towel over his thighs and signaled Howard to rearrange himself over his lap. He ran his hand over Howard's cock, which was stretched up along Howard's abdomen. "Some part of you wants this badly," he pointed out to Howard's shame. Coating the dildo with lube, he slipped it into Howard's ass so the curved end rested right on his prostate and began to massage the small organ with the implement.


"Oh god no, please stop, no, it hurts, oh please oh shit that's good oh please stop," Howard moaned, unable to resist the sensations and at the same time embarrassed by his own avid hunger.


"Come for me," Oliver coaxed. "I'm not going to stop until you do, Howard, and it's going to get more intense until you give it up for me." He changed the angle of the tool, increasing the pressure, and Howard gave an inarticulate yelp. "Feel that? It's not going to stop until you come. Feel how full your balls are, feel how tight your ass is, feel how I'm stroking your prostate. Come for me, I know it's humiliating and it hurts, but the only way to make me stop is to come." He worked the instrument over Howard's prostate, pressing harder. "I can get something larger if this isn't big enough, Howard," he said. "There are all sorts of goodies out here."


"No, please, I'll come, no more," Howard begged. "I'm trying, Oliver, I'm trying!" He felt his balls tightening as Oliver's massage continued without let up. "Hurts, oh god, ohgodohgodohgod!" He could feel his cock jerking in Oliver's lap, across the towel, cum spilling out of him.


"Good boy," Oliver said, stroking Howard's lower back as he withdrew the dildo from his ass.


Howard could only pant for air, gasping inarticulately. Now that he was coming off the endorphin high of the orgasm, his ass ached, his stomach hurt and he felt as if he'd just finished a sexual marathon. He wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep.


To his surprise, Oliver seemed to understand. He resettled himself on the couch and leaning back, drew Howard down with him, cuddling Howard to him. "Good boy," he said again. "That's it, I've got you, you can rest now. Good boy."


Howard wanted to tell Oliver how much he detested being called "boy," but the right opportunity always seemed to elude him. At the moment, in his pleasant post orgasmic haze, it didn't seem very important. He closed his eyes and drifted off. The last thing he remembered was feeling Oliver's hand rubbing the small of his back gently, massaging the last bit of tension from his body.


Oliver continued to rub Howard's back until he felt Howard relax into sleep. Howard had taken that very well; Oliver was pleased with him. Overall he was finding Howard a less unpleasant challenge than Marcus had intimated he would be. It was clear to Oliver that Howard was someone whose veneer of control was stretched very thin. He wasn't surprised that Howard had cracked under the strain of having to be responsible for a submissive of his own. Everything about Howard suggested that what had emerged as rage was resentment of the demands being responsible for another person had placed on him. Howard's response to any bit of kindness or petting was so positive that Oliver was surprised at the intensity of his own response to Howard's gratitude. I like this one, Oliver thought to himself. Now, let me think what we should do about lunch.


It was late enough in the day that Oliver thought they would probably find the dining room uncrowded, if not empty. And it was time that Howard began to realize just how extensive the program was and how many resources had been devoted to it. Accordingly, he shook Howard awake.


"It's time to go back. We are going to eat lunch in the dining room and you are going to be a very good boy for me. Come along."


Howard ached from being used repeatedly and it was difficult for him to walk without wincing obviously.


"Hurry up," Oliver said, not allowing Howard to take a more leisurely pace. When Howard was still too slow for his liking, Oliver snapped a slender branch off one of the trees and stripping it of leaves, used it as a switch across Howard's ass to motivate him to move faster.


"Ow," Howard moaned, but he speeded up, outraged at Oliver's impromptu choice of punishment instrument and at the same time determined not to feel it again. It had hurt and he was still tender from the morning.


Oliver opened the door to their suite of rooms and as soon as they were inside, ordered Howard to strip and leave his clothes in the anteroom.


"We are going to have lunch in the dining room this afternoon," Oliver told Howard. "You will speak only to me and you will be polite and respectful. Is that clear?"


"Yes, Oliver," Howard said. He waited for Oliver to tell him what to wear and then swallowed hard when it became clear that Oliver was not going to allow him any clothes. "I can't eat like this!" He gestured toward his naked body in horror.


"You can," Oliver said calmly. "The only question is whether you want to be naked and faintly pink, as you are now, or naked and bright red, as you will be if you are stubborn and make me turn you over my knee before we leave here. Your choice, Howard."


"I'll go like this," a sobered Howard said. His stomach clenched tight with nerves, Howard followed Oliver out the door of their suite and into the hallway leading to the main part of the house. To Howard's vast relief, the dining room was empty. He looked around with curious excitement. It was like the rest of the main areas in the house, all dark woods and subdued tones. The tables were spaced so that they had a good deal of privacy and wooden dividers and plants had been arranged so that each table had its own little alcove.


"Good afternoon, sir," a waiter said to Oliver. "What can I get you?"


"The lunch menu will be fine, one for each of us, thank you," Oliver said.


Howard wondered what the food would be like. Le Plaisir's chef was excellent, it was one of the perks club members enjoyed, and like here, tops ordered for their partners unless they specifically requested the waiters to behave otherwise. Howard was hungry after the walk to and from the beach and was glad that Oliver was not going to spoon feed him again. He had found that particularly humiliating.


What happened was actually worse. Once the meal arrived, Oliver reached for a fork and spearing a bit of salad, looked at Howard. "Open your mouth."


Any illusions that he was going to be spared the humiliation of hand feeding were abruptly shattered. "No!" Howard yelped despite himself and then resolutely lowered his voice. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude, please Oliver, I can't do this here! I can't!"


"You must," Oliver said quietly. "Let me explain to you one final time what your choice is: you can let me feed you from my hand, or I will gag you and force feed you. Now open your mouth."


"No, please–" Howard said.


Oliver put the fork down and stood up. "We're going back to our rooms," he said grimly. "You're not going to like this. Remember, I offered you a choice."


Numbly, Howard stood and followed Oliver back to the room. He made it to the door before breaking. "Please, Oliver, I'm sorry, I'll eat, please don't gag me again, please don't feed me like that, please–" He was truly terrified.


"You had your choice, Howard," Oliver said quietly. "Stop begging, it's not going to change my mind and it will only prolong things. There's no need to drag this out." He went to the cabinet in the room and removed a metal device. "Come with me now." Taking Howard by the arm, he forced the reluctant man into the bathroom and up on the steel topped table. Moving swiftly, he strapped Howard into place. Howard was twisting and struggling and Oliver slapped him once, sharply, across one cheek. "Stop that. I warned you what would happen, didn't I?"


Howard nodded numbly. "Please don't," he said softly. "Please?"


"Next time you'll pay attention when I tell you something," Oliver said. "Open your mouth." As Howard began to protest, Oliver slipped the slender metal prongs swiftly into Howard's mouth and quickly turned the ratchets, forcing Howard's jaws apart. Oliver strapped the restraint tightly around the back of Howard's head.


Howard was frantic to escape, but his torso was already strapped firmly to the table and Oliver moved quickly to secure his legs and arms as well. Howard thrashed his head from side to side until Oliver aligned a bolster at each side and with a strap across Howard's forehead, pinned him in place. Oliver elevated the head of the table slightly.


"I'm not going to put a tube down your throat this time, only into your mouth," Oliver said. "As long as you're cooperative and swallow the semi liquid food I'm going to feed you, you won't choke. Be a good boy from now on and this will be the first and last time I'll make you eat like this."


Howard tried to shake his head in refusal, but it was firmly fixed in place. He was terrified. Oliver studied his darting, frantic eyes for a moment and then touched his cheek gently.


"Look at me, Howard. Calm down, look at me, I need your attention please. That's it, look at me." Oliver stroked Howard's cheek. "Your hands are free. You remember what your safe signal is, don't you?" He held up his own hand, demonstrating, his fingers making a v. "V. Do you want to stop this now?" He waited.


Howard fluttered his fingers, testing to see if he could move them. He could quit, but then the torments of the last two days would have been for nothing and he would be denied access to Le Plaisir forever. He tried to think. Oliver had hurt him, but not harmed him. He was so scared of this procedure, but he didn't doubt he'd survive it.


"No signal?" Oliver waited another minute, hoping that Howard would make it past this test. He had been doing so well so far. Oliver was not concerned about the transitory pain Howard was feeling. It wouldn't actually harm him and it was clearly having the desired effect of humbling Howard and making him connect to his body. Oliver wasn't going to make this forced feeding bad, either, it was going to be more a symbolic assertion of authority than anything else. He didn't intend to let Howard know that beforehand, of course, but he did hope that Howard would take a chance and trust him.


There was no signal. Howard relaxed his hands, reassured by Oliver's reminder about his safe signal and trusting that as frightening and intrusive as this felt, Oliver would take care not to damage him.


Oliver slipped the feeding tube into Howard's open mouth and carefully dribbled a mere teaspoon of liquid nutrition into the side of Howard's mouth. Howard gulped convulsively, his ability to swallow hampered by the severe gag, and a trickle of fluid escaped from his mouth even as he tried to swallow.


"Good boy," Oliver said, "That's it, swallow, you can manage that. I know it's unpleasant. I gave you a choice, though." He released another teaspoon of liquid.


Tears sprang to Howard's eyes as he tried again to swallow. The gag hurt, he was humiliated by his own drooling and he was cursing himself for not having simply cooperated with Oliver in the first place.


"All right," Oliver said abruptly. "I think you know what the alternative is now." He undid the strap that held Howard's head motionless, removed the supporting bolsters and slipping his hand behind Howard's head, tugged the strap that held the gag firm free. Swiftly he ratcheted down the size of the opening and slipped the metal prongs from Howard's mouth. He released the restraints that bound Howard to the table and helped him to sit upright and swing his legs over the edge. "Go slow now, I don't want you to fall."


"That's all?" Howard croaked. Shit, he thought to himself, I nearly quit over this and he didn't actually hurt me at all. Somehow he knew I couldn't take this. Gratitude and fury warred within Howard. He was grateful that Oliver had done little more than frighten him before curtailing the dreaded punishment. He was furious that he had been so scared, so scared that he had considered for a weak moment using his safe signal. Underlying both the gratitude and the fury was confusion. He would never have backed off a punishment just because a submissive was afraid. They were supposed to be afraid of punishments, weren't they?


Oliver could almost see the thoughts flashing through Howard's head. He didn't try to discuss them with Howard; now wasn't the time. He focused on Howard's question. "Yes, Howard, that's all. I trust you know now that when I tell you that I can and will gag you and force feed you, I have the equipment and methods to be able to do it. Hopefully we're not going to have to do this again, because next time I will be a lot more demanding and a lot less receptive to your fervent desire to stop."


"I'll be good," Howard said quickly. "We won't have to do this again." He meant it. Brief as it had been, relatively painless as it had been, it had been terrifying and emphasized for him that Oliver meant exactly what he said. Hard on the heels of that realization came the realization that Oliver had in fact been very, very easy on him. "Thank you." Howard's voice was soft and it wasn't really clear what he was thanking Oliver for, but Oliver understood.


"I don't want to punish you," Oliver said. "There are some things that I will expect of you that I know are difficult, like eating exclusively from my hand, but they are not meant as punishments. Think of them as challenges that will help you in your journey toward health." Oliver believed what he was telling Howard; emotional health was the prime reason for this trip they were taking together. Howard had the potential to overcome his solipsism and lack of empathy and Oliver had a method that would enable Howard to do so.


Howard followed Oliver back into the bedroom and sighed as Oliver gestured to the bed. In the short time he'd been here, he'd learned that being directed toward the bed was usually the beginning of being opened and penetrated. He was still feeling overwhelmed by the experience of having been so severely gagged and by the fright he'd experienced when he first imagined Oliver actually forcing that feeding tube down his throat.


"What are going to do to me?" Howard asked anxiously.


"Shh," Oliver said. "Over my lap, please, and try to relax." He showed Howard the freshly cleaned butt plug from the morning. "You've already taken this once. Relax and let me insert it." He lubricated the plug generously. "I know you're sore, but you need to accept this." Spreading Howard's buttocks with one hand, he slid the plug in.


Howard tried to accept the plug without crying out. It hurt. He remembered insisting to a crying Alan that a particular butt plug did not hurt and how he had made Alan wear it until Alan stopped sniveling.


"I know it's hard," Oliver said. "You're being a very good boy for me." He rubbed Howard's back. "Would it help if I had you come?" he asked and then, with a smile, answered his own question. "Yes, I think so. On your back, Howard, I want to see you masturbate for me."

 

Howard gulped. He wasn't at all sure that he could come with the butt plug up his ass and after having come earlier in the cabana. Nevertheless he slid his hand to his cock, grasped it and began to move his fist slowly up and down, feeling the slide of his loose skin over his cock, feeling the edge of his fingers skirting the ridge before the end of his cock.

 

"Very nice," Oliver commented. Without warning he leaned in and brushed his warm tongue over the head of Howard's cock.

 

"Oh god yes," Howard gasped, his hips thrusting upward of their own accord. He clenched his ass around the butt plug, the tension only heightening the pleasure he was feeling. Between his own hand, the plug in his ass and Oliver's warm tongue, Howard went from flaccid to rocky hard in seconds. It didn't take much longer before he was coming hard, his cum shooting spilling over his belly. "Ohhhh..." Howard stretched back on the bed, wincing at fullness in his ass, but entirely satisfied.

 

Oliver was delighted with the intensity of Howard's response. It meant that as much as Howard might be struggling with some of the trials and punishments he was imposing, Howard was still at some level thriving on the erotic energy of the program's approach. Oliver had taken renegade tops through this program before and he saw Howard's continued sexual response as a good sign and a predictor of eventual success. In Oliver's experience, lack of sexual response usually predicted failure in the program. It was impossible to motivate someone to change through punishment alone; there had to be some strong positive incentives as well. Getting hard, getting hot, reaching sexual climax: these were all rewards that could be used as incentives for the hard work required for real change.

 

The moments after orgasm were valuable as well for the way in which exhaustion and lowered defenses allowed Oliver to begin to handle even the most skittish submissives. Just as Howard had fallen asleep under Oliver's lulling hand in the cabana, he was now allowing Oliver to stroke his face gently. Unconsciously, Howard began to turn into Oliver's hand, anticipating each stroke. Oliver's fingers ghosted over the last of the visible marks at the corner of Howard's mouth from the tight gag and Howard's face relaxed, eyes closing tiredly, as he fell asleep.

 

Oliver had seen this sort of exhaustion many times. Part of it was that Howard had slept lightly, kept near the surface by the feel of the butt plug he had been required to sleep with, but a bigger part of it was that there was so much going on, emotionally and physically, that Howard simply couldn't take it all in and therefore sleep was a safe refuge.

 

Did you ever cuddle your Alan, Oliver wondered to himself, or did you feel threatened by the thought? Did you ever soften a punishment because Alan looked at you with real fear in his eyes? Somehow Oliver thought not. Howard's reputation had been based on his looks and his implacable harshness. Some submissives sought out that sort of top, needing the strength that strictness implied. In Howard's case though it was a brittle veneer with nothing beneath it. Faced with the day to day pressures of a 24/7 partnership, Howard had reacted with rage and eventually, abuse, to the demands placed on him by his partner.

 

Oliver sighed. It was very hard to keep in mind both the doctor's records attesting to the abuse that Alan had suffered, and at the same time, retain a sense of charity toward Howard, who had managed to fool even the management at Le Plaisir about his fitness as a top.

 

It was clear to Oliver at gut level that Howard was no top. Oliver wasn't sure what level of submission would work for Howard in the long run, but he was convinced that Howard was not going to be able to avoid the BDSM community forever. His response to the eroticism of the power exchange was just too intense.

 

It was late afternoon when Howard awoke. His ass hurt and his throat was dry, too, and it took a little while for him to find the courage to lever himself into a sitting position.

 

"How do you feel, Howard?" Oliver asked.

 

Howard looked at him, uncertain as to what degree of honesty Oliver expected of him.

 

"Sore?" Oliver probed, and when Howard nodded, he crooked his finger at him. "Get up and come into the bathroom and I'll see if I can make you a little more comfortable."

 

It hurt to walk and the pain showed in Howard's face. Oliver helped him up onto the table and eased him down on his back. He unhooked the shower hose above the table, attached a narrow nozzle and showed it to Howard.

 

"I'm going to drizzle a little water around the plug inside you. The lubricant has dried up; that's why it's painful every time you move. This will revitalize it a bit and make taking the plug out much less painful. The more you can relax, the less it will hurt you."

 

"Yes, Oliver," Howard said. He tensed as the Oliver nudged the slender nozzle next to the butt plug and began to gently irrigate his tight opening with it. He could feel Oliver teasing the butt plug out, could feel his inner walls distending as the swell of it was drawn forward. He gasped as the plug was withdrawn entirely.

 

"Good boy, that's it, pant through it, it will stop hurting in just a moment," Oliver said. He used a gentle spray to clean up Howard's ass, knowing the water would hurt less than any cloth, no matter how gently applied. "Would you like a warm shower, Howard? It might feel good and then afterward I'll insert another antibiotic suppository."

 

"Yes, sir," Howard said. A shower sounded wonderful and he remembered from the morning that the little suppository had been painless. "Thank you."

 

"Use the toilet and then wash up," Oliver said. "There's soap and shampoo and conditioner in the shower. Come back to the bedroom after you're finished." He put a warm towel on the bench and walked out of the room.

 

It was the first time Howard had been allowed any real privacy since his arrival the night before and he was grateful. He relished the strong shower, adjusting the temperature so that is was hot and steamy. He washed his hair and his body with meticulous care. Very tentatively he explored his asshole with a wet finger. It was swollen and very tender, but there was no sharp pain and no blood. He thought with growing arousal of Oliver's mouth on his cock that afternoon and hardened so quickly that a few quick strokes brought him off, although there was scarcely any ejaculate. He finished washing up and toweled himself dry.

 

Oliver was waiting for him on the bed, a towel and the box of suppositories neatly laid out. Howard came over without being prompted and arranged himself over Oliver's lap. "Good boy," Oliver said, patting his rump gently. "Relax, this will only take a moment." He eased the small waxy bullet into Howard, pressing it past the ring of muscle. "All done."

 

"Thank you," Howard said softly. He shifted back and looked to Oliver for a cue as to what to do next.

 

"We'll eat here tonight," Oliver said. "You aren't ready for the dining room." It was a statement, not a question, but Howard nodded his agreement. He would have eaten from Oliver's hand in public if Oliver had pushed him on the point, but he was just as glad not to have to. He certainly was not going to risk being force fed ever again. The memory of the horrible gag made him shudder and the thought of having to endure the reality, rather than just a demonstration, of the procedure made him vow to himself to cooperate with Oliver. Anything at all was better than that alternative.

 

While Howard was showering, a tray of food had somehow arrived. Howard was uncertain how these things were managed, but there seemed to be an endless supply of clean, dry towels, cleaned fetish items and food. Oliver opened the covered dishes on the tray and Howard's mouth began to water. There were strips of tasty looking meat, roast vegetables and a separate plate of cookies.

 

"Sit up and make yourself comfortable and we'll have some dinner," Oliver said. Howard settled back on the pillows, partially reclining to take the weight off his tender ass. Oliver draped a napkin over Howard's chest. "Just in case something slips," Oliver explained. "I don't want you to get burnt." He speared a small piece of meat and held it to Howard's lips. Howard opened his mouth obediently. Oliver had a knack for pacing the meal so that Howard never had to rush, but also never had to wait long for his next bite. Oliver fed Howard the cookies bit by bit, breaking off a piece at a time for Howard to enjoy. "There, how was that?" Oliver asked when they were done.

 

"Thank you, Oliver," Howard said sincerely. "That was really good." He yawned. "I'm sorry."

 

"Don't be sorry, Howard," Oliver said. "I know it was an exhausting day. Why don't you go brush your teeth and use the bathroom and then come back here."

 

Howard did as he was told. It didn't occur to him until he reentered the room and saw Oliver sitting on the side of the bed, the usual folded towel with its tube of lubricant and buttplug by his side, that Oliver was planning to place another butt plug in place. Howard's stomach tightened anxiously and he scowled.

 

"Problem, Howard?" Oliver asked, watching as Howard's expression shifted from resentful to apprehensive.

 

"I just–" Howard swallowed hard and began again. "I didn't expect that you were going to have me sleep with a butt plug in tonight," he said. "I'm so sore, Oliver, please, I wish you weren't going to make me do this."

 

"I know you're sore," Oliver said sympathetically. "I'm going to lubricate you generously before I insert this."

 

"It's even bigger than the last one," Howard said, eyeing the implement unhappily.

 

"You need to learn to relax the muscles in your ass or else some of what we're going to be doing is going to be very, very uncomfortable for you," Oliver said. "A series of larger and larger butt plugs is one of the best ways I know to accomplish that goal. In addition, I'm going to take you again tomorrow morning and you will find it a great deal more pleasant if you aren't tight. Now come here and turn yourself face down over my lap."

 

"But–" Howard began to say.

 

Oliver was up before Howard had time to say another word. "I thought I made it clear, Howard: you don't say no to me." Oliver tugged Howard forward over his lap and proceeded to administer a hard spanking. Howard twisted and whimpered, his teeth gritted, his head snapping up in pain as Oliver delivered a series of spanks to the tops of his thighs. "Are you ready to cooperate now?" Oliver asked, stopping the spanking for a moment as he listened to Howard sniffle and gulp before finding his voice.

 

"Yes, Oliver," Howard said. "I'm sorry! I'll be good, just please don't hurt me anymore."

 

"When I tell you to do something, you do it, quickly and without talking back," Oliver said. "Now you've been spanked and you are still going to have a butt plug inserted in your ass. Was it really worth arguing with me over?"

 

"No," Howard said softly. "I'm sorry. Please, Oliver, I'm still sore, please don't make me take that tonight."

 

"Relax and it won't be too bad," Oliver said. He pressed a generous amount of lubricant onto his fingers. Slowly he insinuated first one and then two fingers into Howard's opening. Howard was looser but more tender than he had been the night before. Oliver could feel the panicky clutching of his sphincter as Howard tensed, anticipating pain. "Try and relax, Howard, it will be a lot easier for you if you don't try to resist the insertion. Remember, it's your own fear and tension that cause you the most pain. This butt plug is only a little larger than the one you had in you earlier and you were able to adjust to that one just fine. Don't hold yourself so tight, Howard. It's only going to make the insertion worse."

 

"I'm trying," Howard whispered. "It's so big, Oliver, it's really hurting me."

 

"It'll be in in a moment, Howard, just bear down for me now," Oliver said, rotating the night's choice of butt plug as he pushed the cylindrical object deeper. He knew that once the largest part of the bulge had passed through Howard's sphincter, the pain of the stretch would subside and there would be only the sensation of unaccustomed fullness. It might be a little uncomfortable, Oliver thought to himself, but it wouldn't really hurt. He hadn't been lying to Howard about the morning, either. Already Oliver could feel himself thicken at the thought of opening Howard with his cock the next morning. "There, it's in. Deep breath, Howard, I know that hurt, but it's going to feel better in a few minutes." He rubbed Howard's back gently, regretting that he had had to spank Howard in order to get him to cooperate. "Next time I want you to listen to me when I tell you to come over my lap before bedtime. If I have to spank you again because you're being stubborn, I'm going to use the paddle and it's going to be a much harder spanking." Oliver hoped that the threat would be sufficient to soften Howard's resistance.

 

Howard shivered, trying to breathe, trying not to fight the thick intruder inside him. He still ached, but it was a dull ache, not the nails on a chalkboard pain of the initial insertion. Despite his reluctance to let Oliver comfort him, he had to admit that Oliver's massaging hand on his back felt good. Oliver seemed to know just where Howard was hurting and be able to soothe the worst of the cramping with his knowledgeable fingers.

 

"This is so hard," Howard whispered, so softly that Oliver barely caught the words.

 

"I know it's hard," Oliver said. "You're really being a very good boy for me."

 

"I hate that," Howard said. "I'm no one's boy, Oliver, I'm not a boy, I'm a top. I'm no one's boy."

 

"You're mine for the duration of this program," Oliver responded. "So you might as well get used to it and concentrate on being a good boy and not a disobedient one and it will go a whole lot easier for you."

 

"I'm trying, Oliver," Howard said plaintively. "I don't know what to do. You're so hard on me."

 

"Not nearly as hard on you as you were on your Alan, now am I?" Oliver asked.

 

"Is that why you're punishing me? Because Alan said that I hurt him?" Howard asked.

 

"Alan 'said' that you hurt him?" Oliver asked Howard. "He 'said'? Howard, he was examined by qualified medical personnel, there's no question that you not only hurt him, you harmed him. Nothing I've done to you has harmed you, has it? It may have been uncomfortable, but I haven't done any real harm to your body, have I?"

 

Howard was silent, frustrated at the distinction between hurt and harm that Oliver was asserting and afraid that if he answered with the indignation he actually felt, he'd only earn another spanking. He did not want that.

 

"Answer my question, please," Oliver said. "Have I harmed you in any way?"

 

"You spanked me, you fucked me even though I didn't want to be fucked, you gave me an enema, you put a butt plug up my ass and all of it hurt," Howard said.

 

"But have I harmed you?" Oliver persisted.

 

"You mean, have you damaged me?"

 

"Have I done anything that in addition to causing you some transient pain, has actually harmed your body?"

 

"No," Howard said grudgingly. "I didn't 'harm' Alan either, though, at least not on purpose."

 

"You did harm him, Howard. That you didn't intend to almost makes it worse. You were careless. A top can't be careless, Howard. A top has to be responsible for making sure his submissive is safe." 

 

"I'm sorry," Howard said bitterly. "I've said I'm sorry, to Alan, to the board, to the directors. How many more times can I say it?"

 

"'Sorry' doesn't mean anything unless you learn from your mistakes and develop a strategy to avoid repeating them. So far I don't see that you've even started to do that, Howard," Oliver said. "In any case, it's bedtime now. We will talk about this another time." He patted the bed and Howard lay down, facing away from Oliver. "Good night, Howard, sleep well."

 

Howard expected he would be awake a long time, but by the time Oliver came back from washing up, Howard was fast asleep. Oliver wrapped his body around Howard's and felt Howard shift so that they fitted together comfortably. It was a heartening thing, Oliver thought, that in sleep, with his defenses down, Howard relaxed into his hold. It confirmed what he strongly felt, that Howard was craving this level of control. Oliver stroked Howard's light brown hair gently, enjoying the soft feel of it now that it wasn't ruthlessly gelled back. Sighing, Oliver closed his eyes. It would still be some time before he was going to be able to openly express any of the tender feelings he had for Howard. They had a way to go still and Oliver suspected it wasn't going to be an easy next day for either of them.

 

Chapter 5

 

Morning came and Howard woke to the press of Oliver's cock against him and to the inward pressure of the butt plug he'd slept with. As the last bit of comforting sleep fled, Howard resigned himself to the inevitable. He rolled onto his belly and pushed himself up on his hands and knees.

 

"Good boy," Oliver said. "You know the routine. Relax and let me slip this out." He grasped the base of the butt plug. It was tight; most of the lubrication had been absorbed during the course of the night. "Bear down."

 

Howard grunted in pain as Oliver eased the massive butt plug out. It hurt, it hurt a lot! "Ow."

 

Oliver checked for blood and when he saw none, reached for the bottle of lube by the bed. After coating himself and slicking his fingers, he slid his index finger into Howard and rotated it, checking for any sign of tearing. Howard shifted uncomfortably, but didn't say anything, and Oliver was satisfied that he was all right. Withdrawing his finger, he grasped Howard's hips and entered him slowly and deeply. "Good boy," he repeated, feeling Howard tense and sway at his penetration. "That's right, let me in, you have to take me."

 

Howard accepted Oliver's penetration without struggling. He knew he had no choice here. Already the new rhythm of his days was sinking in. He accepted Oliver's fucking him as a given.

 

Oliver took Howard carefully but deeply, aware that Howard was neither enjoying nor resisting the inevitable. That was all right. Oliver didn't expect Howard to be happy about his lack of choice, only to accept it and to accept being taken as Oliver's due. He enjoyed the hot wrap of Howard's ass around his hard cock and he enjoyed the little grunt Howard gave as he was penetrated to the hilt. Oliver took his pleasure without rushing, speeding up and pounding into Howard as his orgasm drew closer and finally shooting his cum deep within him. He fell forward over Howard's back, breathing hard. "What a good boy!" Oliver said and then withdrew slowly.

 

Howard sank into the mattress, his own cock flaccid, his insides feeling bruised from the hard fucking. It was going to be this way every day, he thought to himself. He was there for Oliver's use and pleasure.

 

"Come on, time to get up." Oliver walked Howard to the bathroom, sensing Howard's bad mood from the set of his shoulders and steeling himself to whatever challenge came next.

 

Howard shivered before the toilet, feeling sore and ill at ease and unable to relax enough to let go. Oliver repositioned Howard's cock over the bowl and bracing him from behind, pressed the heel of his hand more deeply into Howard's abdomen. He could feel Howard's full bladder.

 

Howard groaned. "I can't." The pressure hurt, but all his nerve endings were still vibrating from having been taken and he couldn't make himself relax enough to obey. He resented being pushed when he had already borne more than he thought was fair that morning.

 

"All right then, I'm going to catheterize you." Oliver wasn't surprised it had come to this. He didn't enjoy catheter play as a scene, but he was competent at the procedure and he recognized its value as a way of asserting his authority. He preferred it to force feeding, even though it represented the same sort of ultimate invasion and control. He focused on Howard, who was staring at him as if he wasn't sure whether to believe his statement or not.

 

"Oh yes, I warned you what would happen. Next time maybe you'll choose to cooperate. Up on the table, lie down your back," Oliver said, taking a startled Howard by the arm and assisting him into position before he could muster the wherewithal to protest. "Stay like that unless you want a spanking first."

 

Oliver turned to the table in the corner and removed two sealed packets from a small drawer. Opening the first, he unfolded a betadine towlet. From the second he extracted disposable catheter and a single use packet of sterile lubricant. "This will only hurt a bit if you cooperate with me."

 

Howard cringed as Oliver matter of factly took his cock in his hand, swabbed the head with betadine solution and holding the flaccid organ perpendicular to Howard's body, squeezed the lubricant over the meatus. He then slid the rounded end of the catheter into the small opening. The other end of the tube hung free, descending toward the tiled floor.

 

Howard held very still, afraid of being hurt, trying not to panic as Oliver threaded the catheter deeper. He yelped despite himself as the slender tube pressed past his prostate and then lay motionless as his urine was drained from his body. It only stung a little as Oliver withdrew the catheter. Oliver used the slender overhead hose to rinse Howard's genitals carefully and to send the urine on the tiles toward the central drain in the gently sloping floor.

 

"We're all done for now," Oliver said to Howard when Howard didn't make any attempt to move. He touched his fingers gently to the tears at the corners of Howard's eyes. "You can get up now. You're not hurt."

 

Nothing like this had ever been done to Howard and it had unnerved him copletely. That Oliver would so casually manipulate his most basic body functions was terrifying. He sat up, surprised that he wasn't in pain, and lowered his feet to the floor.

 

"Time for a bath," Oliver announced, starting the water running. He knew the heat from the tub would ease the deep ache he was sure Howard was feeling in his stomach. The combination of the butt plug, the early morning fuck and the catheterization would have left him sore and bruised inside and a hot soak would help. Oliver really didn't like thinking too much about just uncomfortable Howard might really be. He focused instead on what he was hoping to accomplish through the infliction of so much semi erotic pain. Howard was going to learn about empathy. The blunted feelings that had made it possible for him to abuse Alan and the lack of insight that had made it possible for him to take refuge behind the disguise of being a top were going to be blasted open. It was not a neat or pretty process and Oliver knew that there were people who would see it as an exercise in purposeless cruelty. Oliver had worked with the program for a decade, though, and he believed in its mission. It was not about punishment, even though it used punishment as a methodology and as a test of its participants' willingness to endure humiliation and even pain for the sake of change.

 

Howard, who had seldom bathed at home, preferred to shower, but he already knew that his preference would not count for anything with Oliver. After having been summarily taken and then catheterized, his sense of himself as autonomous was fast crumbling. To just cooperate and submit to Oliver's dictates seemed the easiest path. He stepped into the tub at Oliver's signal and reclined in the warm water.

 

"How does that feel?" Oliver asked.

 

"Good," Howard admitted. It did; the bruised sensations in his insides lessened as the heat relaxed his muscles.

 

"Good boy," Oliver praised him. "Yes, I know it's hard being obedient, and you're doing beautifully. And I'm glad you like your bath." He kissed Howard's forehead, pleased that Howard didn't flinch. "You're really a very good boy."

 

Howard wasn't sure if the tears prickling the back of his eyes were tears of mortification or gratitude for Oliver's gentleness.

 

"My boy." Oliver cupped his palm around Howard's chin, tilting his head up, and kissed him a second time, lightly, on the lips. Howard shivered. Pumping a pleasantly aromatic bath gel onto a washcloth, Oliver rubbed the cloth to lather it before beginning to wash Howard. Howard tensed as Oliver washed the ticklish area under his arms, but Oliver used firm strokes and enough pressure that Howard began to relax. Oliver rubbed his back and Howard sighed; his muscles were sore and the massage and hot water felt very good. Howard held very still as Oliver soaped his cock and balls and spread his ass cheeks to clean gently between them. He submitted with good grace to having his legs washed. Once again Oliver was sensitive to Howard's ticklishness and careful, as he washed his feet, not to handle them too lightly.

 

Howard had never liked being touched or massaged. He preferred to stimulate his sex partners rather than have them stimulate him; he would touch them and eventually take them, but he himself didn't enjoy being fondled. He was surprised at how comfortable it was to be bathed by Oliver.

 

Oliver eased Howard from the tub. He wrapped him in a warm towel and patted him dry. Turning Howard toward the bedroom, he helped him lie down on their bed. He stroked his own cock, hardening at the thought of the sweet submissiveness Howard was displaying.

 

Howard tensed at the familiar sight of Oliver arousing himself. He hoped that Oliver wasn't going to fuck him again quite so soon. Oliver saw Howard watching him and smiled.

 

"Later," he promised, to Howard's chagrin. "Right now I'm going to put a butt plug up you and then we're going to have breakfast."

 

"Please don't, Oliver," Howard said softly. "I'm so sore inside."

 

"You are going to have to learn to cooperate when you're penetrated," Oliver said. "It will hurt a great deal more if you aren't used to stretching properly. There, don't cry, there's nothing to be afraid of, I'm not going to tear you. I'm careful of my submissives."

 

"I wasn't careful with Alan," Howard said miserably. "That's what this is about, isn't it? You're punishing me for hurting him."

 

"Yes and no," Oliver said. "Yes, you are being punished for your lack of care and your mistreatment of a submissive in your charge. You claimed to be a top, you were entrusted with a great deal of responsibility and you misused it. Not only did you harm Alan, you showed a complete lack of remorse afterward. You basically blamed him for overreacting and absolved yourself from any guilt. However, I'm not interested in punishing you for the sake of punishing you. If it were that simple, I'd have suggested to Marcus that we strip you, tie you to the club's whipping post and flog you until you were striped from nape to knees."

 

"I could have taken that!" Howard said.

 

"I know you could have, and it would have taught you absolutely nothing except what you already know, that you're tough and can bear physical pain. You'd have been as much a danger to your next submissive and as much a loose cannon as you were," Oliver said. "No, this is a different journey we're taking. I am going to take you down to the most elemental level and together we are going to explore your true nature and where you truly belong in this world of ours."

 

"I'm a top," Howard said defiantly.

 

"No true top harms his submissive," Oliver said.

 

"You hurt me," Howard argued.

 

"Hurt, Howard. Hurt, not harm. You deserve to be hurt. You need to be hurt. You like to be hurt, Howard," Oliver said.

 

"I don't!" Howard cried. "I don't like any of this, Oliver, I hate it, I hate you!"

 

Oliver was pleased to have gotten the simmering anger in Howard to bubble to the surface. "Do you really hate me?" Oliver asked. He seated himself alongside Howard and patted his lap. "Come here, Howard, let's see how much you hate me. I'm going to spank you and you're going to tell me what a bastard I am."

 

"Don't spank me," Howard begged. "Please, Oliver, I didn't mean to be rude, I'm sorry, please, please don't spank me again, I promise I'll be good. Please, Oliver, give me another chance."

 

"Over my lap and I'll decide what you need," Oliver said implacably.

 

Does that mean he's going to spank me or does that mean he's just going to put another plug up my ass, Howard wondered to himself, even as he rolled forward and arranged himself over Oliver's knees. To his embarrassment he felt his cock stiffening with an excitement he didn't quite share. Surely he didn't want to submit to Oliver this way? Surely he wasn't excited at the thought of Oliver's touch, cruel and masterful, or at the thought of having to spread his cheeks for Oliver's questing hand. Yet there was no denying his hardening cock. With a confused sigh, Howard sagged against Oliver's knees. "Please don't hurt me," he begged. "I'll be good, Oliver, just please don't hurt me." 

 

"You are being a good boy," Oliver said, tracing a finger over Howard's taut buttocks and down the backs of his carefully waxed thighs. He slipped his hand between Howard's thighs and spread his legs wider, caressed his balls and his now rigid cock. "You like this, Howard, don't you? Spread naked and vulnerable over my lap, for my pleasure? Waiting for a spanking you know you deserve, or for a butt plug that will open your ass wider and deeper than it's ever been opened before? Oh, you like the thought of that, don't you?"

 

"No! Yes! I don't know," Howard whispered, mortified by how his body was betraying him. He felt Oliver reach beneath his legs and fist his hard cock. "Oh yes."

 

"Be a good boy for me and I'll get you off," Oliver said, removing his hand from Howard's cock and slicking his fingers with lube. "Relax now, I'm going to loosen you up a little." He slid his finger smoothly into Howard, not stopping until it was all the way inside. Drawing back, he added a second finger, turning his hand so that Howard writhed against him. "That's it, move for me. Let's see how this feels." He pressed a third finger into Howard and smiled as Howard groaned and twisted, inadvertently widening himself as he struggled to accept the intrusion. "You're ready for the butt plug I have in mind," Oliver said. Withdrawing his fingers, he slicked the heavy silicone plug. It had three compressed globes, each one larger than the one before, and Oliver knew that the combination of depth and width was going to be painfully difficult for Howard to take. He pressed the first globe into Howard's ass, relishing his groans. The second one was harder to insert and Oliver had to press hard to get it beyond Howard's opening.

 

"Breathe, Howard," Oliver instructed. "This next one is a bit of a stretch, but I know you can take it. You did much worse to your Alan and called it reasonable. Breathe, I know this isn't pleasant, but it's going in your ass and you are going to open for it." He pressed the largest round firmly against Howard's anus.

 

"Stop, please, it hurts," Howard begged. "I can't, Oliver, I can't!"

 

Oliver pushed Howard back down over his lap. "Stay still," he said. "If you make me take it out I'm going to spank you and then I'm going to put it right back in, all the way. Is that really what you want, a sore ass both inside and out?"

 

"No," Howard cried brokenly, "but it hurts, Oliver, it hurts so much." His erection had dwindled. "It hurts–" He gasped as Oliver pressed the last swell of the plug inside. "Ow, oh god, ow!"

 

"Good boy," Oliver said, rolling Howard onto his back on the bed. He gripped Howard's slumping cock in his slick hand and began to pump him toward orgasm. Howard's traitorous body responded to the hard, direct stimulation and he came quickly and suddenly, cum spurting over Oliver's hand, onto his belly. "That's it," Oliver said approvingly, trailing his fingers in leisurely circles through the cum and rubbing it into Howard's stomach. "You're going to love it when I finally fist you, Howard," Oliver promised.

 

Howard was gasping for breath, his heart racing, his entire body quivering. He couldn't remember having come this hard in his entire life. Oliver's words were lost in the rush of blood to his head and he arched his back, the plug inside him stimulating his prostate and making him arch and sigh as he tried desperately for another climax.

 

Oliver reached beneath Howard and shoved the butt plug up him, hard, and smiled as Howard shook with the intensity of his pleasure. He was pleasantly surprised at Howard's reaction. He'd expected him to come and come hard the first time, but he hadn't expected to be able to induce a second, dry orgasm. "Aren't you a good boy!" Oliver pinched Howard's nipples, delighting in his groans, and leaned in and kissed him.

 

Howard opened his mouth to Oliver, welcoming his tongue, all his defiance gone for the moment. The morning had blown him wide open emotionally. All his usual defenses were shattered by the barrage of stimulation he'd received and by the way Oliver had taken all control away from him. Howard closed his eyes, not fighting the sleepiness he felt, trusting at some gut level that Oliver had him and that Oliver would take care of him.

 

"You are a good boy," Oliver said softly, settling the covers over Howard. He sat beside Howard, watching the last vestiges of tension ebb from Howard's body. For a man who had been as fervent about his identity as a top as Howard had been to evince this kind of trust and submission in so short a period was unusual. Oliver had worked with an average of two people in the program each year for nearly a decade. He could not recall even one instance in which any of them had sparked the feeling of protectiveness that Howard prompted in him. Something about how completely Howard shattered each time his defenses were broached made Oliver want to gentle him through the program. He was surprised by how strongly he hoped that Howard would make it.

 

Howard dozed for the better part of the morning. He woke slowly and stretched, then froze as his muscles rediscovered the solid mass lodged deep in his ass. He could feel it deep inside him and as he tensed reflexively, he could feel his ass clenching painfully around the base. It was too wide, too long and he wanted it out. "Oliver?"

 

"I'm right here," Oliver said from across the room. He walked over to the bed. "What's the matter, Howard?"

 

"Please take it out of me," Howard begged. "I can't take it, I'm too full, it hurts a lot. Please, Oliver, it's too much."

 

"Will you be a good boy while I fuck you, if I take it out?" Oliver asked.

 

"I'm too sore!" Howard exclaimed. "Please, Oliver, I can't, give me a break."

 

"All right," Oliver said. "Since you ask so nicely." He seated himself beside Howard and rolled him onto his lap. "Relax, it's going to hurt coming out, but it will be over soon. The first part is the worst."

 

Howard tried not to brace himself, but he couldn't help tightening in pain as the third and largest swell was drawn from him. "Hurts," he whimpered. "Hurts."

 

"I know, but it can't be helped," Oliver said practically. "You're the one who wants it out." He pulled the second swell from Howard, rubbing Howard's buttocks in a comforting gesture as Howard groaned again. The first swell was small enough that it evoked only a sigh of relief as it was removed.

 

"Let's clean you out a bit and see what's going on here," Oliver said, tipping Howard from his lap. "A nice warm enema should do the trick."

 

"No, please," Howard begged. "I don't want an enema, please don't do this to me."

 

"You are getting an enema, Howard, and if you argue with me about it, you'll get a spanking and then an enema. Is that what you want?"

 

"No, Oliver," Howard said softly, knowing it was not an idle threat. "I'll be good. Please don't spank me."

 

"Ask me again," Oliver said. "Convince me why I shouldn't spank you."

 

Howard panicked. He couldn't imagine taking a spanking with any sort of grace at the moment. He would cry and disgrace himself, he just knew it. He felt shaky and as if even a few swats would send him over the edge. "Please, Oliver, I can't take a spanking, I'm trying so hard, please don't spank me. I'm being good, I'm being a good boy!" Boy? The word was barely out of Howard's mouth when he flushed red and ground his teeth together in fury. He was no one's boy. Why had he said that?

 

"So you're my good boy?" Oliver asked, pouncing on the word. "Are you, Howard? Tell me again what you are. Or do I need to spank you?"

 

Howard gritted his teeth and was silent.

 

"All right," Oliver said. "A spanking it is." To his surprise Howard bolted for the doorway to the anteroom. Howard was fast, but Oliver was faster. He caught Howard and dragged him back toward the bed.

 

"Let me go, you motherfucker! Let me go, you prick, you sonofabitch, you fucking bastard," Howard cursed, fighting hard.

 

Oliver though had been trained in martial arts and had a lot of experience at one to one conflict. He forced Howard down on the bed, his own breathing barely roughened despite the fury with which Howard fought. "We can continue as long as you want, Howard," Oliver said loudly and sharply, to be heard over Howard's cries and curses. "You are going to get a hard spanking and a thorough enema, whether you want them or not. The only question is, will you cooperate and take them like a man, or will I have to bind and force you?"

 

Howard continued to struggle, breathing hard, but Oliver let the weight of his body settle over Howard, pinning him in place, and after a few more pointless minutes of thrashing about, Howard finally lay still.

 

"Done?" Oliver asked, his tone as neutral as if he was commenting on the weather.

 

Howard sighed.

 

"So am I going to have to strap you down or are you going to cooperate?" Oliver asked.

 

"Please–" Howard began.

 

"Don't beg," Oliver said sharply. "You're getting a spanking and an enema. Are you going to be a good boy and behave yourself for me or am I going to have to restrain you?"

 

Howard was silent. He didn't know what to say. He feared being tied down, but he didn't know if he could submit to the spanking and enema without being held in place.

"I'll try," Howard finally offered. "I'm not sure I can, Oliver. I don't know."

 

"All right, that's an honest enough answer," Oliver said. "Over my lap, Howard, you've got a solid spanking coming. You don't curse at me, you don't fight me, you don't resist when I tell you you're going to be punished. You do as you're told, when you're told, and you don't try to wheedle your way out of things you find unpleasant. Do you understand me?"

 

"Yes, Oliver," Howard said unhappily, positioning himself across Oliver's thighs.

 

Oliver clamped his leg down over Howard's legs and taking Howard's outer hand, brought his arm up across his back. Howard was now well and truly immobilized; struggling would only hurt him and Oliver knew Howard understood that.

 

Howard did indeed. He'd administered enough spankings and paddlings that he knew just how precarious his position was when pinned this way. He'd punished his submissives for trying to get out of a spanking and he knew that, had he been Oliver, he'd have punished a submissive like himself with severity. He braced himself for the blistering he was sure was coming. To his surprise, he felt Oliver's free hand stroke over his ass gently.

 

"You know why I'm spanking you, don't you?" Oliver said reasonably. "And you do know it's going to be a spanking, not a beating, don't you?" he added, feeling how Howard was shaking. "Howard? Why so scared? How bad do you expect this to be?"

 

"I don't know," Howard ground out. "I know I deserve a beating, for fighting you. I have it coming."

 

"You were wrong to fight me, that's true, that's not allowed, but I know you panicked. What I want to know is why? What do you expect me to do to you that has you so scared?" Oliver asked.

 

"I'm so sore," Howard said softly. "That enema is going to hurt and I'm going to cry and you'll probably punish me for that. And–"

 

"You think I'll punish you for crying if it hurts," Oliver said. "Why is that, Howard? Is that what you did to Alan?"

 

"Yes, of course," Howard said. "Wimp. He always cried, trying to get me to feel sorry for him. Of course I had to punish him for that. They do that, you know they do, they want you to fuss over them whenever something's unpleasant. Needy, weak little bastards."

 

Oliver tried to control the disdain he felt for what Howard was saying and focus on Howard's unacknowledged confusion instead. Howard clearly expected no more mercy than he'd ever given his submissives, but his lack of empathy was rooted in a deep resentment of the emotional demands those same submissives had made on him. All of which made Oliver feel that Howard had no idea what it was like to support a submissive through an uncomfortable moment or to feel pride and satisfaction at his submissive's bravery in accepting pain for his sake.

 

"I'm going to spank you now," Oliver said. "You may cry as much as you need to, I won't punish you any more severely for that. I won't end the spanking, but I won't add to it either. I'm going to spank you hard and you are going to be very, very sorry you weren't more cooperative long before I'm done." He cupped his hand and brought it down firmly, feeling Howard flinch. "Settle down, we've got a long way to go." One hard slap followed another until Howard was trembling and biting his lip, trying not to give way to the tears that threatened. Still Oliver continued laying down spank after spank, burning a solid swathe of red across Howard's pale buttocks. True to his word, he wasn't vicious, but he was thorough and Howard found himself sobbing brokenly several long minutes before Oliver was done.

 

"All right, all over, you're a good boy, come here now," Oliver said, freeing Howard's arm and removing his own leg from over Howard's. "I've got you." He helped Howard stand and stood up with him, hugging Howard to him, rubbing his back as Howard tried to stop crying. "Let yourself go, there's no shame in crying, I'm not angry at you, I know it hurt a lot. I know you really didn't want a spanking. Sometimes though you are going to get one and you have to remember, it doesn't mean that I don't care about you, it means that you need to learn."

 

"I'm sorry," Howard whispered. The spanking had been painful but not horrible and being encouraged to express his feelings and to settle down in Oliver's arms was a much kinder conclusion than Howard had ever allowed Alan. It surprised Howard that Oliver wasn't angry and didn't patronize him. "Why aren't you mad at me?" Howard asked plaintively.

 

"Because it's hard to take a spanking and yet you did it," Oliver said. "A spanking hurts, it's embarrassing, it's scary and it makes you feel powerless. It's no wonder you didn't want one and it's no wonder you struggled and cried. And yet for all that, you took one, you're behaving well now and I'm proud of you for how you're handling yourself."

 

"Oh." Howard had no idea how to respond. He'd never been proud of how Alan behaved, he'd resented Alan's need for punishment, his tears in the aftermath and his demands for cuddling and comfort. Yet here he himself was crying and clinging and all Oliver did was express his pride and his support. I had no business being a top, Howard thought for the first time, and the thought shocked him. "Shit. You don't know how badly I've fucked up, Oliver."

 

Oliver felt Howard slump against him and he knew that he'd hit a chord. "You're a good boy, Howard," Oliver said. "Whatever mistakes you've made before, you're doing your best now. That's all I expect, that's all anyone can expect, of you or of themselves."

 

Howard's momentary flash of guilt subsided as quickly as it had arisen. He was not anyone's boy, he was a top, he didn't have to indulge these feelings of weakness. He had never indulged them in his submissives and he didn't expect Oliver to indulge them in him. "So what now?" he asked Oliver, glaring at him.

 

Oliver noted the sudden shift and reacted by hardening his own gaze. "I think you remember the plan. You're getting an enema."

 

Howard gulped, but after the spanking he'd just received, he wasn't about to argue with Oliver. He moved toward the bathroom and the dreaded table, his apprehension plain to Oliver. He hesitated a moment before sitting down on the table, wincing as his punished buttocks met the metal surface. He was sore enough that lying down seemed like a reasonable alternative, although he knew that lying down meant getting that much closer to the moment he was afraid of.

 

"Very good, Howard," Oliver said. He knew that Howard's cooperation was prompted by how sore he was after the spanking, rather than by any desire to be good, but he still praised the behavior, not worrying about the motivation. Sometimes actions preceded feelings. He stroked Howard's hair gently, noting Howard's wince as his hand approached his face. It told him a lot about what Howard's expectations were and confirmed what he'd read in Alan's complaint. Howard was beginning to understand exactly what it felt like to be subject to someone else's power and whims. Reminding himself that Howard was still far from where he needed to be emotionally, he turned toward the supply cabinet, took the enema bag and walked to the sink with it.

 

Howard shivered at the sound of running water. His guts hurt, his ass was sore, and he knew there was nothing he could do or say that would convince Oliver not to do this. He knew it wasn't going to hurt, or rather, he hoped it wouldn't, since Oliver had never been deliberately harsh before. Still, it was going to be uncomfortable and it was going to be humiliating and he was afraid.

 

"Try to relax," Oliver said, returning to the table. "This doesn't have to hurt, you know. Think about opening for me, think about letting me penetrate you in this way. It can be quite pleasant if you're in the right frame of mind. I want you to do this for me, Howard. I want you to open and accept what I want to give you." He hung the bulging bag from the IV stand and choosing a long, slender nozzle, attached it to the clear tubing and lubricated it carefully.

 

"Yes, Oliver," Howard said. What choice did he have, he thought unhappily. He tried not to squirm as Oliver lubricated his tender opening and slipped the slim nozzle past his swollen sphincter. It went deeper than he had expected and each inch it penetrated made him that more aware of how little control he had over what was happening. When Oliver released the clamp and let the warm water begin to flow, Howard closed his eyes and gave up fighting the tears that threatened to overwhelm him.

 

Oliver clamped the tube shut and rubbed Howard's back comfortingly. "Does it hurt?"

 

"Yes," Howard whispered.

 

"That's not why you're crying though, is it?" Oliver asked gently. "You're afraid, aren't you? What are you afraid of, Howard?"

 

"Please stop," Howard begged. "I don't want to do this. I can't do this. I can't."

 

"Yes, you can," Oliver said calmly. "I'm going to start the water flowing again. You have no choices here, Howard. I am going to do this to you whether you like it or not, whether it frightens you or not, because your body is mine to control. If you want to end this, you have your safeword. Do you remember your safeword, Howard?"

 

"Yes," Howard whispered.

 

"What is it?" Oliver asked. "Tell me."

 

"Mercy," Howard said. "I remember."

 

"Do you want to use it?" Oliver laid a gentle hand on Howard's cheek, tilting his head so that their eyes met.

 

"No," Howard said. "No. Please don't make me do this, Oliver, it's so embarrassing, it hurts and I hate it."

 

"I know," Oliver said. "You'll do this for me though, because I require it of you. Breathe, Howard, you can do this. Breathe." He rubbed Howard's swelling belly gently. "Relax, think of opening for me, think of accepting what I want to give you. That's my boy. Breathe." His hand pressed careful counter clockwise circles over Howard's abdomen, working the warm water deeper. He could feel Howard's muscles contracting as his stomach cramped and he rubbed steadily, trying to ease the sensations. "You're doing very well, you're almost full, we're almost done here."

 

Howard tried to breathe through the cramps. Oliver was being very kind, Howard thought, in indulging him this way. He'd certainly never coddled his submissives this way. He had expected them to come to him clean and prepared for sex and the times that he'd administered enemas, it had been done to punish and humiliate. It had been extremely effective, too. He felt a remembered thrill at the sensation of power and at the same time, he felt a sudden connection to Oliver, a sudden shock of pleasure at the thought of being this open, this exposed, before him. The confusion of thoughts was far more disturbing than any of the physical sensations and he cried out, frightened. "No more, please!"

 

Oliver closed the clamp and waited a moment, continuing his gentle massage. "You can take the rest for me, Howard," he said. There was something going on between him and Howard that transcended the physical. "You're mine, Howard, and you are going to let me fill you this way. I know it hurts." He reopened the clamp and let the warm water flow inward once again.

 

Howard groaned and tried to concentrate on his breathing. He felt as if he were going to burst, but he knew it was an illusion, that Oliver was monitoring him carefully and wouldn't let him come to harm. He broke out into a light sweat, his body trembling at the pressure within, his entire being focused on the sensation of being distended.

 

Oliver noted the sheen of sweat covering Howard's body and the way he was shaking. He clamped the hose once again and waited for Howard to notice that the water had stopped flowing. "I'm going to take the nozzle out and you're going to hold that," Oliver said. "I'll help you up and then you can go to the toilet and you can expel it when you're ready. Do you understand?"

 

"Yes, Oliver," Howard whispered, contracting his muscles. He felt the nozzle slide outward and he struggled to keep the water inside. "Oh god Oliver please help me, it's too much, I can't do this."

 

"Yes you can," Oliver said calmly. He helped Howard sit and then stand and taking his elbow, led him to the toilet. Seeing the look of horror on Howard's face at the thought of being observed as he expelled the solution, and rightly judging that Howard would not deal well with that degree of humiliation, Oliver turned his back and walked away, to Howard's immense relief. "Come over here when you're finished."

 

Feeling drained and weak, Howard walked back toward Oliver. "Thank you," he said softly and then blushed. Thanking Oliver for leaving him some illusion of privacy, after Oliver had made him accept the enema in the first place, sounded ludicrous. As ludicrous as it sounded, though, it also somehow felt right. "I don't know what's happening to me," Howard said aloud, his confusion loosening his usual inhibitions.

 

"You're learning what it's like to give up control to another person," Oliver said. "It takes courage to do that, especially when you don't know whether it's safe to trust anyone else with control. It's natural for you to feel a little bewildered by your own reactions. Don't struggle so hard, Howard. It will be easier once you accept that I'm in charge here. I won't harm you."

 

"You hurt me before," Howard said.

 

"There's a difference between hurt and harm, Howard. You need to learn to accept that I have the right to spank you, to take control of your bodily functions, from eating to elimination, and some of the sensations involved may be intense and even painful at times." Oliver gestured toward the shower. "Go wash up now and then come over to the table." He saw Howard freeze and stiffen at his words. "I want to take a look inside you and make sure everything's in good shape before I slip in another antibiotic suppository. You're not getting another enema and I'm not inserting another butt plug, so just relax."

 

Howard swallowed, aware that Oliver had seen the flash of panic he'd felt. "Thank you," he mumbled, annoyed at himself for being so pathetically grateful. He stepped into the shower, adjusted the water temperature and turned it on. It was a relief to have a few minutes on his own to regroup after the morning's humiliation and he made the most of them, dragging out the shower, shampooing his hair twice and taking his time washing down his body. It was with great reluctance that he turned off the water, stepped out and toweled himself dry with the pristine warm towel Oliver had laid out on the bench for him.

 

Chapter 6

 

Oliver knew that Howard was taking his time, but he let him proceed at his own pace. He wanted Howard relaxed and cooperative for the rectal exam he was going to perform. Howard had been distinctly uncomfortable with the three sphere butt plug Oliver had inserted that morning and Oliver wanted to be absolutely certain that he hadn't missed any internal trauma, any abrasions or minute tears. Usually a quick manual exam was enough to rule out major trauma, but Oliver wanted to be certain there wasn't any minor damage and for that he would need a lighted proctoscope and he was pretty certain that Howard wasn't going to react well to being dilated and examined. Not, thought Oliver, that Howard was going to have any choice. However if the shower and his slight display of independence in prolonging it made Howard feel any happier and more cooperative, it would be a good thing.

 

Howard approached the table with trepidation. He'd endured several uncomfortable and humiliating procedures on it and he already feared it.

 

"Up," Oliver said, patting the clean metal surface. "This time I need you positioned on your hands and knees, please."

 

"Why?" Howard demanded.

 

"Your tone?" Oliver said mildly. "Howard, I can spank you first if that makes this easier for you to accept without challenging me. It's your choice, but make it quickly, because I'm not going to tolerate any more rude replies."

 

"No, please, I'm sorry," Howard said hastily. He was still sore from his earlier spanking and he knew that he wasn't going to escape whatever torment Oliver had in mind no matter whether he cooperated or not. With a deep, heartrending sigh, Howard took the position Oliver had described. "What are you going to do to me?" Howard asked anxiously.

 

"I'm going to do a thorough rectal exam," Oliver said. "Drop down please, chest to your knees, and try and relax. I'm first going to examine you manually and then I'm going to use a proctoscope to examine your rectum for any damage I may have inadvertently overlooked earlier."

 

"You can't do that, you're not a doctor!" Howard exclaimed, backing away.

 

Oliver closed the gap between them swiftly, catching Howard's by the arm and tugging him forward again. He swatted Howard hard across the ass. "Stand still!" He swatted Howard again. "Pull away and I'll turn you over my knee and spank you for real."

 

Howard didn't want that, but he also didn't want Oliver pressing a proctoscope into his ass and examining him as he lay prone, knees to chest, on an examining table. "Please, you're not a doctor," Howard repeated miserably. "I don't think you can do this!"

 

Oliver heard the real fear in Howard's voice. "All right, Howard," he said gently. "How about this? I'll give you a choice. First, let me tell you that I've been trained in how to do this exam properly. I've done it many times and I know exactly what I'm doing. It's not a complicated procedure." He saw Howard gulp and nod his head. "Okay, I'm glad you're paying attention. Now, that said, if you really are concerned about me examining you in this way, I have no objections to calling in a doctor. We have a few very good medical contacts available on short notice. If you want a doctor to do this, I'll arrange it. Oh, and Howard? It's a real choice. I won't punish you if you tell me you want a doctor."

 

"I don't know," Howard said unhappily. He didn't really want a strange doctor touching him; it was bad enough to imagine Oliver probing him in this intimate way. Proctoscopes were long and rigid and could do damage if used improperly. "I don't know!"

 

Howard sounded too frantic for Oliver's liking. "Come, sit up on the table and let's talk a little," Oliver said. Seeing the suspicious look Howard gave him, he sighed. "I'm not trying to trick you, Howard. I'm not going to strap you down or anything sneaky like that. I just want to talk for a bit."

 

Not knowing what else he could do, Howard obeyed.

 

He's really scared, Oliver thought to himself. "Howard, you remember your safe word, don't you? Mercy. Do you want to use it?"

 

"No!" Howard didn't hesitate. He didn't want out of the program. Scared as he was, he felt an astonishing underlying confidence in Oliver. It was confusing to be both this frightened and this certain that he was going to be taken care of. "I don't want out, Oliver. It's just I hate medical stuff like this. And I hate doctors. Oh shit, I don't know what to do."

 

"All right," Oliver said. "I think you should let me handle this. I know how to examine you safely, I promise I'll take it slowly and I promise I'll stop if it hurts too badly. Can you agree to those terms?"

 

"Yes," Howard said, surprised at how certain he felt. "I don't want anyone else to touch me," he said. "Is it going to hurt a lot, Oliver?" 

 

"If you don't have any abrasions or tears, it may be uncomfortable, but it won't hurt. If there has been any minor damage, it may hurt a little, but it shouldn't be unbearable. I'm sure there's no major damage," Oliver said. "I'm going to be using larger and larger plugs on you over the course of this program and I want to be absolutely sure I don't harm you."

 

"Oh," said Howard, flushing. He had never thought to check whether Alan's complaints of pain might have been due to, what had Oliver termed them, 'abrasions or tears.' He'd assumed Alan was just exaggerating his discomfort, as he always did, the little prick, Howard thought bitterly. Angrily he dismissed the traitorous thoughts from his head. He hadn't made any mistakes! Submissives weren't entitled to that kind of coddling!

 

Only Howard remembered that he himself had panicked and tried to flee from Oliver and that except for a few swats across his butt, Oliver hadn't punished him. Instead, Oliver had listened to his fears and even offered him an alternative. It was terribly confusing and it literally made Howard's head hurt to try and think about it. He swayed slightly and Oliver extended a hand to steady him.

 

"You're getting a migraine, aren't you?" Oliver took in Howard's sudden pallor, his clammy skin, his unfocused eyes.

 

Already Howard was seeing the halos that presaged a bad attack.

 

Oliver had read Howard's medical record and was aware that migraines were a recurring problem for Howard. He had taken the precaution of ordering the medication Howard's doctor had prescribed for acute attacks. While he had no qualms about using pain as an aid to training, he was not about to let Howard suffer for the sake of suffering. Taking Howard's elbow, he helped him off the table and gently steered him out of the bathroom, back into the bedroom and over to their bed. He eased Howard to a sitting position on the mattress and when Howard sagged limply, lifted Howard's legs to the bed and tilted Howard back onto the pillows. "Lie down, Howard, that's it, take it easy. I'm going to get you your medicine."

 

Howard swallowed reflexively, feeling even sicker than he had when he'd first been struck by the familiar hammering pain to his head. If he'd been miserable before, he was near to collapse now. He felt as if he were looking at himself from very far away. Oliver's voice sounded tinny and artificial. Howard wasn't sure if he'd replied or not. The sensory distortion that always accompanied his migraine aura left him disoriented. As his visual and auditory hallucinations faded, his pain and nausea increased. He was too distracted to notice Oliver's return.

 

Oliver uncapped the small vial with a quick snap of his thumb. Drew up the enclosed liquid into the disposable syringe and holding it point upward, flicked it hard, releasing any air. He swabbed Howard's thigh with alcohol and skillfully, without any hesitation, inserted the needle and depressed the syringe's plunger quickly.

 

The injection stung as sharply as it always did, but by now Howard was concentrating too hard on not throwing up to even whimper in protest. Naturally he threw up anyway. Oliver had already brought over a basin and now he held Howard's head over it without flinching, his hands gentle, his voice soft and reassuring. Howard let Oliver guide him, his pain too intense to allow humiliation a foothold.

 

"Poor thing," Oliver said with genuine sympathy. A headache like this was no joke. He supported Howard over the basin until his vomiting turned to dry heaves and then offered him water to wash his mouth out with. He took the cup back and eased Howard down onto the bed.

 

"Don't!" Howard screamed at the meant-to-soothe stroke of Oliver's hand over his spine, and recognizing that the medication so distorted Howard's senses as to make touch agonizing to him, Oliver let Howard's protest go without so much as a shake of his head.

When Howard flinched at even Oliver's attempt to cover him with a light sheet, Oliver left the covering off, went over to the wall thermostat and nudged the temperature higher. He seated himself and waited, still and silent, until Howard's breathing slowed. Finally Howard fell asleep.

 

It was late in the afternoon before Howard awoke. Oliver was sitting quietly in a chair alongside the bed.

 

"Thirsty?" Oliver offered Howard a glass of sweet, fizzy soda with a straw. It was just the thing Howard would have chosen to ease his thirst and placate his nervous stomach; Howard sipped gratefully, wondering at Oliver's kindness.

 

"Good boy," Oliver said, and for the first time the appellation brought comfort, not resentment.

 

Howard closed his eyes and let himself drift for an indeterminate amount of time. "Oliver? I'm sorry," Howard said softly.

 

"For having a migraine? For being sick?" Oliver looked at Howard sadly. "Howard, of all the things you ought to be sorry for, this certainly isn't one of them."

 

"This is so fucking embarrassing," Howard said. "I'm not supposed to be sick!"

 

"Supposed to?" Oliver shook his head, wondering where that injunction had come from. It helped explain Howard's coldness toward Alan and his lack of empathy for Alan's distress. It was clear that to Howard, being sick and in pain was a weakness to be ruthlessly ignored. "Howard, you were sick, quite sick, and you still look like death warmed over. Now lie quietly and rest. I'm going to take care of you."

 

Tears oozed from the corners of Howard's eyes. As Oliver put a cool cloth over Howard's forehead and kissed him gently, Howard shivered. "Why are you doing this to me?" Howard asked plaintively. "Don't, Oliver."

 

"I'm doing this because you're sick and you need to be cared for," Oliver said gently. "Now you stop protesting and let me take care of you." He judged that Howard was recovered enough to understand a gentle tease. "Be quiet now and rest. I'd hate to have to threaten to gag a sick man."

 

"Hush," Howard said. "No more jokes, please. It hurts when I laugh, Oliver."

 

"Let's just be quiet then," Oliver agreed. He reached for Howard's hand and stroked it gently. and was happy when Howard caught at his fingers and held on. "I'm right here, Howard, just rest. I've got you. You're safe."

 

Howard's eyes closed tiredly. The medication had eased the pain, but as usual, it had also left Howard totally drained. Left to his own devices, Howard would have forced himself upright, but Oliver's injunction to rest was welcome and Howard wanted to be good for Oliver, so he let himself drift back to sleep.

 

By the second time Howard awoke, the day was well over.

 

"Could you stand something to eat, Howard?" Oliver asked. "I have some nice soup here if you'd like it." He settled himself on the side of the bed next to Howard.

 

"Yes, please," Howard said. He didn't even hold his hand out for the bowl and spoon Oliver was holding, but just opened his mouth. He didn't even realize how readily he'd come to accept that Oliver would feed him.

 

"Good boy," Oliver said, glad that Howard had cleared that hurdle. He enjoyed feeding Howard now that Howard was no longer protesting. There was something powerfully intimate about being the source of nutrition and there was something touching and satisfying about Howard's graceful acceptance.

 

Howard didn't have much of an appetite and Oliver didn't push him. Once the light meal was finished, Oliver steeled himself for what had to come next. "Go wash up now and then come back into the bedroom. It's almost time for bed."

 

"Yes, Oliver." Howard obediently made his way to the bathroom. As he used the facilities, washed his face and brushed his teeth, he began to wonder anxiously what Oliver was going to do about the usual nightly routine. By the time he came back to the bedroom, all his earlier relaxation had gone. He looked apprehensively at Oliver, noting the towel spread alongside him. There was something on it that Howard didn't recognize.

 

"Here, over my lap," Oliver said. He made sure that Howard was comfortably positioned, with his head elevated and supported. "Since I wasn't able to have a thorough look at you before, I'm only going to insert one of the small antibiotic suppositories tonight. I don't want to use another butt plug on you until I'm a hundred percent certain you're all right." He stroked Howard's buttocks lightly. "Relax for me, that's a good boy." Parting his cheeks with one hand, he pressed the small suppository into Howard. Howard took it quietly; it obviously didn't hurt in the slightest. That's a good sign, Oliver thought.

 

"All right, roll over onto your back now," Oliver said. "I'm not going to use a butt plug, but I am going to put a cock restraint on you tonight. Relax your legs, please. I need to put this ring around your balls and the base of your cock." He suited his action to his words, not giving Howard time to formulate a protest. "That's it, good boy, just relax. This isn't going to hurt at all." He took a smidge of lube in his hand and stroked it over Howard's cock, too lightly and quickly to be misinterpreted as stimulation, before easing a cylindrical cock cage of clear polycarbonate over the quiescent organ. Carefully Oliver connected the cage to the matching ring that held Howard's cock and balls and attached a snap clip to the connection, making a neat package. "There's no lock, but I expect you to leave it strictly alone. It comes off when I take it off, is that clear?" Oliver asked.

 

"Yes, Oliver," Howard said. Unlike the butt plugs, the cock restraint didn't hurt, but it was clear that Howard wasn't going to be able to have a comfortable erection until it was removed. It was a reminder of the control Oliver exerted over every aspect of Howard's body and despite himself, Howard was reassured by both the control and the careful kindness Oliver was demonstrating by substituting the cock cage for a butt plug. Howard tilted his head so that his eyes met Oliver's. "Thank you," he said very softly.

 

"You're welcome," Oliver said with a smile, kissing him. He thought that Howard might not be so grateful come morning, if his cock hardened during the night, but then again, he had not noticed Howard having a great many morning erections, so perhaps the cock restraint would be easy on Howard after all. Oliver hoped so; he was concerned about both Howard's migraine and his reaction to the last and largest butt plug he'd taken and he didn't want to cause Howard unnecessary pain until he was sure Howard was hale and whole.

 

Howard yawned and turning on his side, curled into himself and fell asleep, undone by his earlier headache, his medication and the events of the day. Oliver washed up, allowing himself a brief release in the shower, and then joined Howard in bed. Spooning behind Howard, he draped his arm over his hip and caressed his belly gently. Howard only sighed and snuggled closer. His automatic response made Oliver very happy. Howard was coming along nicely.

 

As usual, Howard awakened to the feel of Oliver's hard cock pressing into his back. His own cock was comfortably soft in its clear cage. He tried not to tense at the thought of being penetrated by Oliver this morning. His ass had been so tender yesterday.

 

"Don't worry," Oliver said softly in his ear. "I'm not going to fuck your ass until I've had a look inside you. How does your head feel this morning?"

 

"I'm fine," Howard said. "I usually am the next day."

 

"I'm glad to hear that," Oliver said. "I'm very hard, Howard." He cupped Howard's jaw in his hand and eased his forefinger inside. "Suck me. Get me off." When Howard hesitated, Oliver rolled him onto his back and straddled his chest, presenting his stiff cock to Howard's lips. "Open your mouth."

 

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Howard obeyed. He'd never sucked cock in this position, flat on his back, straddled by his partner. It was a humiliating position and yet he knew that he had no more choice about accepting this intrusion into his body than he had had about having his ass used. He tried not to panic as Oliver pressed forward into his mouth.

 

"Relax, I'm not going to make you choke," Oliver said. "Not if you're a good boy and lick and suck my cock nicely," he amended. "Your mouth feels so good, Howard, so warm and smooth. That's it, lick the head," he said, withdrawing partially so that Howard could run his tongue around the ridge near the top. He might not feel comfortable penetrating Howard anally this morning, but he was going to be certain that Howard be kept in his state of sexual submission and fucking his mouth was a good compromise.

 

Howard tried to relax his jaw as Oliver pressed his cock deeper. He'd never had anyone straddle his chest as they fucked his mouth. It was unnerving and uncomfortable to be pinned this way. He tried to get his hands up to Oliver's hips, so that he would have some control over Oliver's strokes, but Oliver thrust harder, discouraging Howard's attempts to limit his access. Howard could taste something he thought was pre cum and he tried to turn his head. He didn't like to swallow, he'd done it when he had to, but for the most part he wouldn't. He tried to shake his head no, but his motions only stimulated Oliver further.

 

Oliver watched Howard carefully. Howard didn't look panicked or as if he needed for Oliver to stop, but he did seem determined to resist Oliver's cock in his mouth. Oliver arched his back and pushed his hips further forward, determined to make Howard keep his mouth open as Oliver worked himself to completion. Oliver felt his balls growing harder and tighter and with a final forward thrust of his hips, he came in Howard's mouth.

 

There was so much cum! Howard tried to spit it out, but Oliver's cock was too deep in his mouth and in self defense he swallowed, not wanting to risk choking. As much semen leaked from his mouth as went down his throat, but Oliver had been successful in making Howard swallow at least some of his cum. Howard felt his eyes tearing with angry frustration. He didn't want this and he knew he had to take it. It was worse in some ways than being fucked up the ass, because he'd had to watch as Oliver loomed over him, he'd had to watch as Oliver's cock came closer and closer, he'd had to cooperate at least enough to keep his lips over his teeth and that made it a more consensual act and made him feel as if he'd wanted it on some level. And it hadn't hurt enough to distract him and it hadn't excited him on any level.

 

So it was a sullen and unhappy Howard who Oliver led into the bathroom. Oliver led him to the toilet and ordered him to pee.

 

"Wearing this?" Howard asked indignantly.

 

"It's designed for it," Oliver said in a matter of fact voice. "There are slits in the head of the cage. Come on, Howard, use a little common sense and cooperate with me. There's enough unpleasant things ahead of you this morning." He placed his hand over Howard's bladder and pressed into it, hard. "Be smart now."

 

The pressure and the reminder that there were other things on this morning's agenda sobered Howard, reminding him that the morning's face fucking was probably not the worst thing he'd have to endure today. With a sigh he relaxed and let Oliver position his cock so that a stream of urine spilled into the toilet bowl. "What are you going to do to me now?" he asked, trying to sound as if he didn't care.

 

"Well, for starters, I'm going to take this cock restraint off, because you've been a very good boy so far," Oliver said, to Howard's surprise. "Up on the table, on your back." Howard obeyed and Oliver unclipped the snap that held the cock cage to the cock ring that constrained Howard's cock and balls. He slid the cage off and opened the ring, freeing Howard. "All right, that probably feels better now." He cupped Howard's balls in one warm hand and jostled them gently from side to side, until the slight stimulation made Howard's cock begin to lengthen. "Okay now?" he asked Howard.

 

Howard nodded. "Yes, Oliver. Please, what are you going to do to me?" he asked plaintively. He'd been dreading the proctoscope exam since yesterday and the delay had just made him tenser and more anxious.

 

"First I'm going to give you an enema to make sure you're all nice and clean inside so I can see what's going on, then you're going to take a shower and then I'm going to set you up on the table and examine you with a proctoscope. If you cooperate with me, it's not going to be painful," Oliver said.

 

"I don't want to do this," Howard said.

 

"I need to make sure you're in good shape. If you start to argue with me about this at any point while I'm getting you ready, I'm going to spank you until your ass is a pink red before I continue. Now is that what you really want? Think carefully before you say something you'll regret, Howard," Oliver said.

 

"I'll be good," Howard sighed. Oliver had a knack for draining all the fight from him. It wasn't just the threat of pain, it was the matter of fact way that Oliver offered him choices and expected him to make the right ones. Sighing, Howard turned onto his side and drew his knee to his chest without waiting for Oliver's instructions. He'd had enough enemas in the last few days to know the procedure.

 

"That's a good boy," Oliver said, patting Howard's hip encouragingly. "This won't be bad, I promise." He filled the enema bag with water, added a packet of castile soap and screwed a slender metal nozzle onto the clear plastic tubing. Hanging the assembly from the IV stand, he reached for a tube of lubricant and squeezed a glob onto his fingers. "Take a deep breath and hold it." A quick movement of his hand lubricated the nozzle "Now breath out." A gentle probe with a slick finger loosened Howard's sphincter enough that the inward slide of the nozzle was effortless. "Very good. I'm going to start the water flowing now." He shifted his hand to Howard's belly and rubbed gently, encouraging his muscles to relax into the filling pressure.

 

Howard closed his eyes, trying to keep calm and keep from crying. He was mostly empty from the day before and it didn't really hurt, but it made him feel vulnerable and confused. He was glad Oliver was doing the exam and not some stranger, but he couldn't help but remember that he had not even accompanied Alan to the doctor when Alan had insisted that he was in pain. Instead he had just listened, bored and unsympathetic, as Alan begged him to come with him to the doctor and with an abrupt shake of his head, had answered with a curt no. It had seemed so right at the time and it seemed so inexcusably cruel now.

 

If Oliver had dismissed my feelings yesterday the way I dismissed Alan's then, I would have used my safe word, Howard thought to himself. What was I thinking? What have I done? I deserve everything that's happening to me and then some.

 

"You're crying, Howard," Oliver observed in a calm, non-judgmental voice. He touched the tears wetting Howard's cheeks with gentle fingers. "Are you in pain?" Howard didn't reply. "Is something upsetting you? Talk to me, please, I want to know what's going on in that head of yours."

 

"I don't want you to examine me this way," Howard said softly. "It's not that I don't believe you know what you're doing," he added hastily. "Just it's a medical procedure and I want a doctor, not you. I'm sorry!"

 

"Don't be sorry, Howard," Oliver said. "I told you yesterday, it's your choice. I'll arrange for a doctor to see you if that's what you'd prefer. Easy, Howard, that's no problem at all. Calm down." He clicked the clamp on the clear hose of the enema to the off position. "I'm going to take the nozzle out now. Hold it."

 

Howard clenched his ass tightly and held it, gritting his teeth, as Oliver helped him sit upright.

 

"Go take care of that and then shower, please," Oliver said. "Meanwhile I'm going to arrange for a doctor."

 

"Thank you," Howard said. He wondered if he'd made the right choice. He was embarrassed at the thought of a strange doctor, but reasoned that the club's contacts would not find the need for such an exam unusual. He was reassured at the thought that the exam would be conducted by a professional. It wasn't that he didn't trust Oliver, so much as that the idea of a proctoscope scared him and the idea of Oliver being the one to dilate him with the large instrument required a degree of submission he didn't think he could manage without giving up the last vestige of dignity he had.

 

By the time Howard came back into the bedroom, Oliver had made the arrangements and the doctor had been notified and was scheduled to arrive shortly. "We'll wait on breakfast until the examination is over," Oliver said. "It shouldn't take very long. I hope you're not too hungry."

 

"That's okay," Howard said, breakfast being the last thing on his mind at the moment. For the first time he considered seriously whether he shouldn't use his safe word. Mercy. He closed his eyes.

 

Oliver studied Howard's face. He had never seen Howard look so sad. "Are you thinking of using your safe word?" he asked softly. When Howard didn't speak, but gave the slightest of nods, Oliver touched his cheek. "Open your eyes and look at me, Howard." Howard obeyed. "Safe word or not, if you are injured, you're going to need to see a doctor. It's a question of doing it here with me alongside you to support you or doing it on your own."

 

"Like Alan did," Howard said miserably. "I didn't know, Oliver. I should have listened to him. I should have been able to tell that he couldn't take that large and that heavy a butt plug. I should have gone with him to the doctor when he told me he was hurt. It never occurred to me. I'm a bastard."

 

Oliver wanted to shout with joy at Howard's statement. For the first time, Howard was displaying real empathy. It had taken a lot of fear and not a little pain to get him to this point, but it was an amazing breakthrough. This was not the time to celebrate that triumph, though.

 

"That you realize you were wrong is the most important thing and I'm very proud of you, Howard," Oliver said. "You still need to get through this examination though. Would it be easier for you if you were blindfolded? I'd be right alongside you. You wouldn't have to see the doctor. You wouldn't have to see the proctoscope. It's entirely your choice. I'm offering this as an alternative to help you, not to test you or make this more difficult."

 

Howard felt himself relax at the thought of not having to look at a stranger. The thought of being blindfolded comforted him, as Oliver had intended it should. "Please," he whispered. "Thank you, Oliver."

 

Oliver took a silk pad and a lycra eye mask from the cabinet. He held them in front of Howard and Howard nodded mutely. Oliver placed the silken pad over Howard's eyes and covered it with the lycra eye mask. He adjusted the mask so that it sat perfectly smoothly over Howard's eyes, the edges well down on his cheeks, and then cinched the lycra straps snugly behind Howard's head. "How's that?" he asked.

 

"I can't see anything," Howard said. He sounded calmer and more at ease. Oliver sat beside him, stroking his hair, and felt Howard relax into a deeper and deeper state of submissive trance. He likes this, Oliver thought to himself. Giving up control like this, giving over responsibility to another: it's exactly what he wants and needs.

 

The doctor let himself in to the suite and to the bedroom. He nodded to Oliver, seeing the blindfold on Howard and wanting to let Oliver handle announcing his presence.

 

"The doctor is here now," Oliver said quietly. He felt Howard tense under his hand. "I'm going to lead you into the bathroom and help you up on the table. Prone knee to chest, doctor?" he asked.

 

"That would be best," the doctor said. He saw Howard take a deep breath and then let it out, seemingly resigning himself to the situation. "Howard, I want to know whether you want to be examined with the blindfold on or whether you'd prefer Oliver to remove it."

 

"On," Howard said softly. "If that's all right," he added, in a display of humility that surprised both the doctor and Oliver. Unbeknownst to Howard, the doctor had been on the board that had reviewed his suspension and he was familiar with Howard's record. Nothing in it had led him to believe that Howard was capable of this degree of submission or obedience.

 

Oliver led Howard to the bathroom and positioned him on the table. He thought it was probably just as well that Howard wasn't able to see the doctor take the ten inch metal proctoscope from its sterile wrapping and lubricate it. He watched as the doctor positioned the sleek metal probe at Howard's opening and began to press it inward.

 

Howard stayed silent, comforted by Oliver's hand stroking him and by the dark, safe cocoon the blindfold provided. He felt the proctoscope going deeper, straightening and nudging his rectum and without his realizing it was happening, began to cry quietly, his tears dampening the blindfold. He didn't make a sound.

 

The doctor removed the central core from the fully inserted instrument and turned on the light. He withdrew it slowly, intently viewing the sides of Howard's rectum, looking for evidence of any damage, any trauma to the anus itself. He saw nothing untoward, no abrasions and no tears. Withdrawing the instrument, he placed it aside for cleaning. "Everything's in perfect shape," he said. "You can resume anal play immediately, no restrictions."

 

"Thank you," Oliver said. "I'll take it from here."

 

"Very good," said the doctor. "I'll let myself out."

 

"You were a very good boy," Oliver said to Howard. "It's all finished now." He heard the exterior door click shut. "I'm going to take the blindfold off and then I'm going to help you off the table. Close your eyes for a moment." He loosened the blindfold and removed the sodden silk pad, noting the mute evidence of Howard's tears. "All right, it's off. You can open your eyes again."

 

"Thank you, Oliver," Howard whispered. He opened his eyes and shivered as he realized for the first time the ignominy of his position. As Oliver helped him back off the table, he saw the proctoscope for the first time. "Shit, that was all the way up my ass? I'm glad I didn't see it first," he said. "Why didn't it hurt?"

 

"You were deeply relaxed and you didn't fight it," Oliver said. "It makes a big difference. Now that you've seen what you're capable of taking without pain, maybe you'll be better able to relax when I insert the next butt plug. Come on, let me find something appropriate and then we'll get on with our day." He led Howard into the bedroom. Going to the wall cabinet, he chose a stubby plug with a narrow neck and an oval base. "You'll wear this until after lunch." He seated himself on the bed and crooked his finger at Howard. "Come on, over my lap."

 

"Please, Oliver, I don't want this," Howard protested. "I was good for the doctor, I was good for the cock restraint and I let you fuck my mouth this morning, please give me a break!"

 

"Do you want a spanking first?" Oliver asked. "No? Then be quiet and come lie over my lap."

 

Resentfully Howard obeyed. "Ow!" he yelped, as Oliver slapped his buttocks, hard. "Ow!" Oliver spanked him again and Howard gritted his teeth, determined not to cry out another time. It was too hard, what Oliver expected of him. He'd been probed and examined by a strange doctor, he'd had an enema before that and been face fucked before that and had his cock and balls restrained before that...Oliver never let up, never gave him a break, never gave him a chance to gather himself before the next assault on his dignity. Oliver never let him take back control. With a sudden exhalation, Howard went limp over Oliver's lap. He had no control. He had to take what Oliver gave him. He remembered the deep comfort he'd felt as Oliver snugged the blindfold over his eyes, the wonderful sense of safety Oliver's voice gave him during the proctoscope exam. It's not hard once I do it, Howard thought. "I'm sorry, Oliver," he said. "I'll be good now."

 

Oliver rubbed Howard's stinging buttocks gently, fascinated by the sudden change he felt in Howard's body. Howard is accepting that he's not in control, Oliver thought. "What a good boy," Oliver said sincerely. He felt Howard relax further at his praise. "I'm going to open you up a little and then I'm going to put this butt plug inside you and you're going to relax and accept it." Taking the lubricant in hand, he coated his fingers and inserted first one and then a second deep into Howard. "That's it, let me loosen you up a bit, it'll be a lot more comfortable that way." He stretched Howard's sphincter as far as he was able with his two fingers, feeling the muscle first tense against him and then give as he continued to work it. Sliding his fingers out, he positioned the lubricated butt plug with its tip snugly against Howard's anus. "Deep breath for me now and then breathe out," Oliver said, pressing the plug forward as he felt Howard exhale.

 

It hurt, it hurt, it hurt a lot! Howard tried not to resist the painful stretch, knowing that after a minute or so the intensity of it would ease. Knowing that and remembering that at the moment of penetration were two different things, though, and Howard tightened all over, fighting the pain.

 

"It's in," Oliver said, resting his hand on Howard's buttocks. "I know it's uncomfortable, it's a large plug, but it'll feel better shortly. Count down from thirty, Howard, give it half a minute and see if the pain doesn't start to settle down." He rolled Howard onto the bed and took his shriveled cock in his lubricated hand, massaging it gently. He smiled when he felt it begin to fill and lengthen. With firm, confident strokes he brought Howard to a full erection and without stopping to let Howard get used to the suddenness of the stimulation, brought him to the edge and over.

 

Howard's hips thrust up and his ass tightened and he lost all awareness of everything other than the tormenting pressure in his ass and the relentless stroking of his cock as his head dropped back and his nipples hardened and he came with a rush of heat that left his entire body shaking. "Ohgodohgodohgod," he chanted, coming down, shivering with the intensity of it and from the pass of the room's air over the light sweat he'd broken out into.

 

"I've got you," Oliver said with what he knew was a smug smile. He loved the way Howard let go of everything when he came. Howard struggled so hard to maintain control that seeing him give it up that way was an incredible rush. Oliver kissed Howard carefully, enjoying the feel of Howard's panting breaths as Howard tried to come down from the high of it all. "What a good boy," Oliver said. "What do you think, do you deserve a treat for breakfast? Would you like to try the dining room again?"

 

Howard's happy excitement ebbed at the question. Being fed by Oliver in the privacy of their rooms was something he'd come to accept. It was simply the way things were. Being fed by Oliver in the dining room was an exercise in humiliation. Howard dreaded the thought of being seen by anyone, be they waiter, dominant or other submissive. He knew that he wouldn't dare refuse to eat again, because being gagged and tube fed was so horrible a prospect that he would have done anything at all to avoid it, even if it meant total humiliation. However he wasn't happy at the idea of eating in public and it showed plainly in his expression.

 

"Why is it so hard for you to accept, Howard?" Oliver asked him. "You are not the only client in this program who is required to eat from his trainer's hand. It's actually a fairly standard practice. I don't understand your attitude toward this at all. It is painless and not even particularly humiliating."

 

"Please don't make me, Oliver," Howard begged.

 

"I think I am going to insist," Oliver said thoughtfully. "The only question in my mind is whether you need a spanking beforehand or not. On the one hand, I had in mind to give you a treat. On the other hand, sitting on a sore, freshly spanked butt will no doubt help you focus better on your behavior and on obeying me. On the balance I think a good spanking is called for. Come back over my knee."

 

"No," Howard moaned, remembering the last spanking he'd gotten with a butt plug in place and how it had hurt each time Oliver's hand glanced off the butt's base. "Please, Oliver, it's too much, don't make me do this."

 

"Howard, you're getting a spanking now. Over my knees," Oliver said. "If you keep delaying I'm going to use my little leather paddle as well and I know that you do not want that."

 

Howard had only encountered that vicious little instrument once, his first day in the program, but it had made a memorable impression. "I'll be good," he said as he positioned himself across Oliver's lap, his buttocks clenching in anticipation. "Please, Oliver, don't paddle me, I'm doing what you wanted. I don't care what that doctor said, I'm still sore inside and if you paddle me I'll die."

 

"I wouldn't want you to die," Oliver said, sounding amused and rubbing Howard's back gently as Howard squirmed into position over his knees. Oliver shifted the butt plug inside Howard and Howard groaned, opening his thighs wider. "That's it, don't fight me. I'm not going to give you more than you can take." With that reassuring statement, Oliver cracked his palm down across the crest of Howard's ass and without pausing to give Howard a chance to catch his breath and voice another protest, delivered a thorough spanking that left Howard gasping for breath and whimpering piteously. "Now you're going to follow me into the dining room and be a very good and cooperative boy while I feed you breakfast, aren't you? Because if you're not, we'll come back in here and I'll do this again, only this time I will use that paddle, I promise you."

 

"I'll be good!" Howard's voice was high and shaky. "I'll do whatever you tell me to, only please don't spank me anymore, please." Howard didn't care any more if Oliver wanted him to dine nude, to eat from his hand, whatever. The assaults on his dignity were humiliating, but the pain from the assaults on his body were more urgent and immediate and all of a sudden Howard didn't care about what anyone else thought, he cared only that Oliver would be pleased with him and not spank him any more, not open him any wider, not make him think about all the ways in which he himself had punished Alan whenever Alan voiced any protest. At the same time Howard was aware that Oliver was being far kinder to him than he had been to Alan. Oliver's punishments came without curses, without withering denunciations of his character and personality, and without threats of abandonment. "I'm sorry," Howard whispered. "I deserve this, I know I do, but it hurts so much, Oliver."

 

"I know it hurts," Oliver said sympathetically. Howard's buttocks were red and shiny and Oliver knew that the insertion of the butt plug had taken away any hope Howard had that Oliver would be easier on him. "All you need to do is do as I tell you and I won't need to punish you. Come on now, stand up and go wash up and we'll go to breakfast."

 

Chapter 7

 

The pain of the spanking did what Oliver hoped it would and kept Howard's mind focused on Oliver and obedience and not on the embarrassment he felt at being walked naked into the dining room. Oliver knew that the other clients in the program were being worked equally hard and that any attention they paid Howard would be scant and fleeting. The other tops might look Howard over, but they wouldn't be obvious about it unless Oliver had privately arranged for them to test Howard's progress.

 

Howard's entire attention was focused on sitting carefully enough that he didn't jar the base of the butt plug or settle too fast and too heavily on his glowing ass. He kept his eyes down on the table as Oliver ordered their breakfast, willing himself to stay calm. The thought of eating from Oliver's hand in public was still difficult, but he saw no way to avoid it without being punished in ways he didn't like to think about. Another spanking, another session with the fearsome metal gag and tube: either of those alternatives were so thoroughly unnerving that Howard was ready to comply even with this demand of Oliver's.

 

Oliver fed Howard bites of tender pancakes and perfectly prepared scrambled eggs and slices of fresh, ripe strawberries, aware that Howard was trying his best to eat without protest. He was aware too of the tears that were close to the surface and he didn't try to provoke them. That Howard was doing this, hard as it was for him, was enough to make Oliver happy.

 

"Very good, Howard," Oliver said. "Have you had enough to eat?"

 

"Yes, Oliver," Howard answered. "Thank you?" He sounded uncertain of whether he should be tendering his thanks for this humiliation, but to his surprise, the actual meal had been less miserable than he'd expected. No one had stared at him or spoken to either Oliver or him. It was not much different from being fed alone in their room, except that Howard could see that they were not the only couple who were doing this. It was a strange feeling to think of others being put through a similar program. Howard wasn't sure if it made him feel better or worse to know that he wasn't the exception to every category and rule that he had thought himself to be. He was but one more former top who was being offered a second chance. He sighed. He wasn't special. If he didn't make it though the program, would anyone even care?

 

"Let's go back to the room, Howard," Oliver said, sensing the downward shift in Howard's mood. He led Howard through the corridor and back into their private space. "Now tell me what's going on inside that complicated mind of yours?"

 

"It's not important," Howard said.

 

"Howard, let me explain something to you, something I've told you before, but that you don't seem to have taken on board. Evasive answers such as 'it's not important' or 'I don't know' aren't something I'm prepared to tolerate. This process only works if you talk to me honestly. Now, you can either take another shot at explaining to me why you are looking so unhappy, or I can turn you over my lap again and you can talk to me while I play with that butt plug, replace it with a larger one, and if necessary, paddle your ass. You are going to open up to me emotionally and if I have to use physical means to push you, I'm going to do it." Oliver went to the cabinet and withdrew a longer version of the thick plug he'd inserted earlier that morning. "Let's see if this doesn't help you open up," he said ambiguously.

 

"Please don't do this," Howard whispered. "I can't do this, Oliver, please, don't do this to me."

 

Oliver seated himself and drew Howard forward over his lap, noting that despite Howard's verbal plea, Howard wasn't fighting to escape. He gripped the base of the butt plug Howard was wearing and withdrew it slowly, watching Howard's struggle to endure as the narrow neck was pulled out and the large swell of the plug itself distended his anus. "Open up, Howard," Oliver said, pressing the longer, thicker plug into Howard without adding more lubrication. Although Howard retained some lube from the earlier insertion, this lack of slickness hurt and Howard began to cry as Oliver pressed the plug inside. "Now talk to me," Oliver said, knowing Howard was in pain, but wanting to force the issue.

 

"I didn't know it was this hard," Howard said. "I did this sort of stuff to Alan, to my other partners, and all the time I never knew how much it hurt. I hated when they cried, I didn't want their submission, I didn't want to have to worry about whether they enjoyed what I did to them. All I wanted them to do was fucking behave and they wouldn't. They liked the sex, hell, so did I, everyone likes sex," Howard said. "I didn't know that they needed training like this. I thought they just had to do what I told them and everything would be fine."

 

"So now you're beginning to understand how serious a problem this is," Oliver said, "How serious a problem you are and how serious a problem you have caused to our community."

 

"Yes," Howard said without protesting either the severity or frequency of the message he was being given. "I know I fucked up." Oliver could feel Howard's stomach muscles clenching as he struggled to accommodate himself to the longer butt plug. "You're going to fuck me this afternoon, aren't you?"

 

"With great pleasure," Oliver said to him. "A good, deep fucking, until your ass is open and you're ready to communicate with me without holding back. I can last a very long time, Howard. You will be very open to my cock and very open to conversation before this afternoon is over."

 

Howard nodded, resigned to the pain he feared was coming, but his traitorous cock hardened at Oliver's words. From the first, Oliver had asserted his authority. He had penetrated Howard with tubes, nozzles and butt plugs, with his fingers and his cock. Oliver had spanked Howard and comforted him, had taken Howard with total disregard for his lack of pleasure and brought him to orgasm. Howard knew that his only choice was to trust Oliver completely or use his safeword and end the program. Howard feared the powerful fucking Oliver was promising would be the afternoon's agenda, but at the same time, he trusted that Oliver would not harm him. For all the pain Oliver inflicted, Oliver had never harmed him. Oliver had introduced Howard to sensations so intense that Howard had come just remembering them. Howard both feared and craved Oliver's domination.

 

Oliver believed strongly in the value of repetition. He didn't use a wide variety of techniques or sanctions, just a steady regimen of the ones he'd come over time to believe were the most important in getting to the core of a faux top's issues. It was a matter of taking away an exaggerated sense of entitlement and control and replacing them with self awareness and empathy. It could be a harsh process at times; Oliver was resigned to the fact that even members of the club's board who approved of the program's concept were sometimes squeamish about the day to day details. Yet for the right person, the program worked, enabling a faux top to find his true self beneath the brittle veneer.

 

Oliver ran his hand over Howard's body, lingering teasingly on his stiffening cock. "This is important information, right here," Oliver said. "Your body is telling you something, isn't it? You want me to fuck you, good and deep, because you're a good boy, aren't you?"

 

"Yes," Howard moaned. I didn't know how much I wanted this, Howard thought, even as he widened his legs. "Ow." He felt Oliver tug the butt plug from his ass and whimpered as it stretched him as it was withdrawn. "Please." He didn't know if he was pleading for Oliver to stop or begging him to continue.

 

Oliver grasped Howard's hips and pulled him to his hands and knees. "Be a good boy," he coaxed, "Relax for me, I'm going to take you now." With a long, smooth thrust he pressed the length of his cock into Howard's tight ass, holding Howard in position as he penetrated him fully. Howard tensed and tried to pull away, but Oliver held him still. "Be good now," Oliver said softly. "I'm going to fuck you for a long, long time and you're going to take it without fighting me or it's going to be very painful and you don't want that, now do you?" He shoved his hips forward, hard, demonstrating what he meant.

 

Howard gasped and stopped struggling. "I'll be good," he yelped. "Please..."

 

"Please what?" Oliver asked. "How do you want it, Howard, like this?" He stroked slowly, a smooth in and out motion, controlled and careful. "Or like this?" Oliver thrust hard enough that Howard yelped painfully. "Tell me to be gentle, if that's what you like," Oliver said.

 

"No," said Howard. "I don't need gentle. I don't need–" He gasped as Oliver thrust forward again, hard enough to hurt. "Ow! Please, Oliver, please, be gentle, please..."

 

"Good boy," Oliver said softly, leaning forward and licking the sweat from Howard's back. "This is better, isn't it? Nice and deep and gentle, like this?" He suited his actions to his words. At the same time, he reached for Howard's cock and began to stroke it back to hardness. "This is what you want, isn't it? Not to be hurt, but to be thoroughly opened, thoroughly fucked, to have your ass reamed out while I pump your cock." Oliver took his time, holding Howard on the edge of orgasm, but not letting him come, as he delivered the rigorous fucking he'd promised.

 

"Oh!" Howard cried out painfully as he finally came and then he shivered through Oliver's last dozen thrusts, whimpering at each stroke along his overly sensitive prostate until Oliver too came. He collapsed face down on the bed and Oliver lowered himself alongside and dragged Howard into a hug. Howard burrowed into Oliver, needing his reassurance, needing his touch, wanting his praise.

 

"Good boy," Oliver said. "This is what you like, isn't it?"

 

"Yes, Oliver," Howard whispered. "I didn't know, I swear, I didn't know."

 

"Didn't know that this is what you like? That this is what you need? That this is what you want?" Oliver asked softly.

 

"I didn't know." Howard closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the combination of emotions and physical sensation. "I didn't know any of it. I ache all over, Oliver."

 

Oliver stroked Howard's damp back gently. "You feel chilly. Let's warm you up a bit before you nap. Come with me." He led Howard into the bathroom. He felt Howard tense as they passed the table. "No, Howard, we're done with that for today. Let's just run you a warm bath and see if that doesn't help make everything feel better.

 

Howard watched Oliver draw a warm bath. To his surprise, Oliver stepped in to the large tub himself. He extended his hand to Howard.

 

"Into the tub with me now," Oliver said, supporting Howard as Howard stepped over the edge. "There's plenty of room for both of us." Oliver sat down and drew Howard down with him, between his legs. "Lean back, Howard, I've got you."

 

Howard sank into the warm water. It felt was a great deal more comfortable than he had expected. He relaxed into Oliver, letting Oliver support him. "Thank you," he said softly, as always torn by the conflicting feeling he felt whenever he expressed his gratitude for a privilege he had once taken for granted.

 

Oliver soaped a soft washcloth and worked it gently over Howard's body, feeling Howard sigh at each touch. "You're being a good boy," Oliver said. He knew that Howard was struggling to accept his caresses without tensing. "Isn't this better than a spanking, Howard?"

 

"Yes," Howard sighed, sinking deeper into the combined warmth of the water and Oliver's embrace. "Much better." He closed his eyes.

 

Oliver got Howard out of the tub before he could fall asleep in it. He wrapped Howard in a large, pristine white towel. Howard leaned into Oliver drowsily and Oliver helped him back into the bedroom and back into bed. "You did very well, Howard. Here, on your side, bring your leg up." Oliver reached for a butt plug of the same diameter and length as the last one Howard had worn. He lubricated it thoroughly. "You've already taken one just like this, so it's not going to hurt at all."

 

Howard was too deeply exhausted to do more than sigh as Oliver inserted the butt plug. Being kept open and available had begun to feel like second nature to him. It no longer surprised him that Oliver would make him tolerate this intrusion even after Oliver had held and caressed him in the bath. It was all part of the new way of life he'd come to accept over the course of the program.

 

Bathed, fucked, fed: It was the new rhythm of Howard's days. Sleep. Enema. Piss or be catheterized. Bathed, fucked, fed again. It was easier to cooperate, to open to Oliver's caressing hand and be petted, than to resist and be spanked. Howard wanted the gentleness, wanted the kindness, wanted to be Oliver's good boy. 

 

Oliver added regular hours in the gym to Howard's schedule. Howard had always liked working out and was proud of his physique, so he enjoyed the addition to their daily routine. Time in the gym was strictly scheduled so that each participant in the program and his top had privacy. Some tops used it as discipline, but Oliver preferred to keep it as a pleasant change of pace. Often Oliver performed his own routines alongside Howard, but occasionally he let Howard work out on his own. It was one of the few scheduled opportunities for privacy that Howard had and it allowed Oliver time to handle the business part of being one of the program's training tops.

 

Oliver scheduled his weekly meeting with Marcus for a time when Howard was in the gym. It gave Oliver a ninety minute window to spend discussing Howard's progress with Marcus. Oliver used his key to the main part of the house to leave the secluded training area and walked down the paneled hallway to Marcus's private office. He knocked crisply on the closed door.

 

"Good to see you, Oliver," Marcus said in greeting. He stood up from behind his desk and moved toward the conversation area in the corner of the room. "Let's sit down over here where we'll be comfortable. Would you like something to drink?"

 

"Good to see you as well, Marcus," Oliver said. "Have you got any bottled water? Thank you." He settled himself in a plushly upholstered chair. "Did you see the report from Dr. Lambert yet? I assume he forwarded you a copy?"

 

"I did. He also called me directly that afternoon. He was quite surprised that you called him in. Did you really think he was needed for a basic proctoscope exam or did you have reason to believe it was going to be more complex than that?"

 

"Howard wanted a doctor to do it," Oliver said. "Before you say anything, yes, I am comfortable doing them myself, but I offered him the choice of having a doctor."

 

"I would have thought you'd wanted him to accept your examination," Marcus said. "The man would benefit from experiencing that degree of submission. I'm surprised you gave him that choice."

 

"Marcus, you know how I operate. You know he's been experiencing a very high degree of submission. However, one of the things he needs to learn is to trust the appropriate people when necessary. If he'd been willing to place a call to one of our doctors when Alan was injured, we might not have found ourselves in this position," Oliver said. "I wasn't going to suggest that seeing a doctor was a bad idea."

 

"I can see your point," Marcus said. "Oh well, Oliver, I've known you a long time; it shouldn't surprise me that you had a strategic reason for your decision. I trust the examination was sufficiently unpleasant to make a point about exaggerating his pain, in any case. Dr. Lambert tells me there was no damage at all. He also tells me that Howard was blindfolded for the exam and that he seemed to be comforted by that, which surprised him and surprises me. I know you like gags, but I didn't know you liked sensory deprivation as well?"

 

"I use it on occasion," Oliver said. "In this case, though, the blindfold was more a comfort than a punishment. It helped Howard feel safely held by me and kept him in a nicely submissive mind set. Did Dr. Lambert tell you that he asked Howard if he wanted the blindfold removed and Howard declined?"

 

"Yes, he did. Dr. Lambert was surprised. He was on the panel that reviewed Howard's case, you know, and he thought Howard was an extremely rigid personality. He told me he didn't expect that Howard would welcome that kind of aid and initially he was a little uncomfortable with the idea."

 

"He made sure Howard was consenting to it, specifically," Oliver said. "Howard didn't even take time to think before agreeing. He was pretty far into sub space, is how I interpreted that."

 

"All right, that about sums up that particular incident," Marcus said. "Now tell me about the larger picture. How is our problem child progressing, Oliver?"

 

"He's very sweet, Marcus," Oliver said without irony.

 

"Sweet?" Marcus raised an eyebrow at Oliver's choice of words. "And precisely what do you mean by sweet in this particular instance, Oliver? I don't think I've ever heard you describe one of our program's clients in just that way before."

 

"Sweet," Oliver repeated. "He didn't struggle very hard. I think somewhere inside himself, he knows this is what he needs." He shrugged. "Sweet is the best description I can come up with."

 

"Don't be too easy on him, Oliver," Marcus cautioned. "Howard inserted a very large, very heavy steel plug in his partner's ass without sufficient care and he hurt his partner badly. Alan had a rectal tear that required two stitches. There is no way a competent top lets that happen. Alan is a decent man, an excellent submissive. Howard was at fault here."

 

"I read his file, Marcus, and I'm well aware of Howard's shortcomings as a self styled top. It isn't my responsibility to punish him for that, Marcus," Oliver said. "That was another place, another time. My goal here, now, is to help him find his center. In his case, it's a submissive core he's never really explored or acknowledged. I've taken him way down and he is really being very, very good for me. Punishment for the past has nothing to do with the journey we're taking."

 

"Am I correct in thinking that you like this young man?" Marcus asked wryly.

 

"I could get very fond of him," Oliver said ruefully. "Of course, it's partly the process. It's impossible for me to work at this intensive a level with someone, 24/7, in a one to one context, and not to feel something for him. But yes, Marcus, this one appeals to me in a very personal way."

 

"I've never heard you talk like this about any of your previous trainees," Marcus said slowly. "It sounds as if you feel there may be something here between you that's going to outlast the program's interest in this matter. Is that true?"

 

"I won't let it interfere with my effectiveness regarding the program's goals, Marcus, I give you my word on that. I'll take Howard through the entire process, all the way to the end, and I'll be careful not to let my growing affection for him get in the way of what needs to be done. How do you feel about my voicing my interest to him, though?" Oliver asked.

 

"Hmm." Marcus steepled his fingers together. "It's my experience that it is possible to be both, a top and a lover, Oliver. I think in Howard's case, we're agreed that the best result we can hope for is that he acknowledges his own unfitness to be a top?" He waited for Oliver's nod. "I think in that case, especially if he finishes the program successfully and fully accepts his desire to be the submissive in a relationship, it might be a very good thing for him if you were prepared to take him on personally, as well as in this current, shall we say professional, context. If you didn't feel any sort of spark, well then we'd do what we've done in the past, try and find some compatible tops who are looking for someone. However if you would like to pursue a relationship with him yourself, I wouldn't stand in your way, nor would I find it unethical. This is not a strictly professional program or a strictly professional relationship and we're not governed by the same sort of ethical strictures a medical or religious or teaching professional would be. Everything we do at Le Plaisir, including our administration of this program, falls into a sort of ethical gray area. As long as issues of consent are handled with care and you do what you're doing in this discussion with me, openly discuss these issues with your peers in the community, I'm comfortable with you using you best judgment." 

 

"Thank you, Marcus," Oliver said. "I'll be sure to keep you up to date."

 

"You're very welcome, Oliver. I have to say that I didn't take to Howard when I met him, but I'll do my very best to give him another chance if you do decide to pursue a relationship with him. You and I have been friends a long time and I have the utmost respect for you. If you choose to take him on as a lover and a submissive, I will welcome him as I would anyone you chose to share your life with," Marcus said. Both men stood and hugged each other affectionately.

 

Chapter 8

 

Oliver returned to the gym just as Howard was finishing his workout. He took in the sheen of sweat over Howard's body and checked the stack of weights to see where Howard had set the machine. "Not sparing yourself any, are you?" Oliver asked.

 

"I'm good," Howard said, his voice steady although he was breathing heavily. "Two minutes, Oliver?"

 

"Take your time," Oliver said. He enjoyed watching Howard exercise. Howard took such clear pleasure in the movement and the opportunity to work off some excess tension. He also found that regular exercise seemed to open Howard up emotionally and they had some of their best talks in the wake of these workout sessions.

 

Howard rose from the machine, stretched and turned to Oliver. "I think I need a shower," he said.

 

"Let's go back to our room," Oliver agreed. The exercise accommodations were very much like an exercise room in a private house would be, with no locker rooms or showers, since every pair using them was in residence in their own nearby suite. He let Howard trail him back to their rooms and into the bedroom. "Go shower and then come back in here," he said to Howard. After Howard left the room, Oliver stripped and lay back on the bed, his hand on his cock, caressing himself and thinking about his discussion with Marcus. It was good to know that he had Marcus's good wishes and support. Oliver closed his eyes, imagining a future with a happily submissive and compliant Howard. 

 

Howard washed up carefully and came back to the bedroom, uncertain what to expect. Often Oliver used the time after exercise sessions for talking, but just as often, he would finish off Howard's workout by fucking him. He found Oliver in the bed, sprawled on his back, his cock erect and hard and looking impressively thick. Howard gulped, remembering the last time he'd taken Oliver in his mouth.

 

"Suck me." Oliver ran his hand over his stiff shaft, encouraging it even harder and straighter. When Howard hesitated, clearly uncertain if he was ready to do that again, Oliver frowned at him. "All right then, I can see you don't want to use your mouth. There are other ways you can satisfy me. Straddle me, Howard. Lower yourself on my cock and make me happy that way." Oliver reached for the ever present lubricant on the bedside table, slicked himself quickly and extended the lube to Howard.

 

Howard swallowed hard and shook his head. Oliver's cock looked long and thick and as if it would not easily fit where Oliver clearly intended it to go, but the humiliation of lubricating his own ass as Oliver watched was too overwhelming. Reminding himself that he had taken Oliver's cock before, if not in this position, Howard reluctantly straddled Oliver, the position immediately uncomfortable. Oliver helped Howard position himself over his cock and then watched impassively as Howard struggled to relax his unprepped ass enough to make entry easy. Finally fully mounted, Howard looked at Oliver.      

 

"Good boy." Oliver could see that Howard was uncomfortable. "Move, Howard. Make me come." He reached for Howard's still soft cock with a slick hand. "What's the problem?"

 

"It hurts," Howard said piteously. He was unprepared for what happened next.

 

Before Howard could protest further, Oliver released his cock, raised Howard off him and flipped him onto his belly. Oliver jammed a folded pillow beneath Howard's hips, raising his ass. Slapping his thighs apart as Howard yelped at each smack, Oliver spread Howard's buttocks and sheathed his lubricated cock in Howard's tightly clenched opening. "Do you disobey me, Howard?" Oliver spanked Howard sharply. "Answer me."

 

"No," Howard gasped. "No, Oliver. I'm sorry, Oliver, I'm sorry..." Howard writhed as Oliver took his pleasure in deep, rhythmic strokes. "Oh god, Oliver," Howard moaned, as Oliver thrust strongly into him. "Not so hard, Oliver, please, I'll be good, you're hurting me."

 

"Fucking can be a pleasure or a punishment, Howard, it depends entirely on you," Oliver said calmly. He spanked Howard again as he felt Howard tense against him. "You're going to take this fucking whether you like it or not, Howard. You don't have a choice here."

 

"You're hurting me!" Howard's body tightened rebelliously. When he'd taken Alan like this, he thought resentfully, it had been termed abuse. A sharp spark of anger flared in Howard and he kicked out, trying to free himself.

 

"Oh no you don't," Oliver said sharply. "Your attitude needs some improvement. You don't fight me, Howard." He withdrew his cock and reached into the drawer of the bedside table. "Remember this?" Oliver asked, displaying the small leather paddle before bringing it down hard. "This is what happens to disobedient boys. I'm going to paddle your ass until you're ready to settle down and take me like a good boy." He brought the paddle down again and again, reddening Howard's ass as Howard struggled fruitlessly to escape Oliver's body weight pinning him across the pillows, holding him in place for the relentless swats.

 

"Ow, I'm sorry, stop, please, I'll do anything, just please stop. Please, Oliver," Howard whispered. "I'm sorry! Please don't make me take this. Please, Oliver, you're killing me, please..." Howard cried as the paddling continued, no longer begging coherently, but just yelping as each stroke of the cruel little leather paddle hit home.

 

Oliver didn't stop until Howard had given up fighting and lay limp across the pillows. He set the paddle aside and once again spread the now achingly red buttocks, as Howard continued to cry. "I know it hurts, Howard," Oliver said quietly. "I want you to do this for me, though. I want you to trust me when I say this is the right thing for you, for us. You need to let go and stop fighting me. Just because I allow you a little time alone in the gym and the shower doesn't mean the rules have changed. You're mine, Howard, and you do as you're told. I want you to think about that while I fuck you. I know you're sore and I know this is going to hurt. Just remember, it's you who decided to fight me. Next time trust me and do what you're told."

 

"I do trust you," Howard said. He was crying even as Oliver penetrated him, and he was quiet and breathless long before Oliver came. "I trust you. Help me, Oliver, please."

 

"There, see, you can be a good boy for me when you want to," Oliver said. He withdrew carefully and sat up on the bed next to Howard, stroking Howard's back, reaching forward to stroke the tears running down Howard's face. "You need to remember that you belong to me now, that's all. " He waited for Howard's little nod. "This is the best way I know to help you with that. Try and relax now, I'm going to insert a little reminder."

 

"No, oh no," Howard moaned, but he didn't move as Oliver pressed a substantial butt plug into his tender ass. "It hurts," Howard sniffled into his pillow. "It hurts."

 

"You'll feel better in a little while," Oliver said calmly, purposely not reacting to Howard's whimpers. He knew Howard wasn't faking and it was hard for Oliver not to respond to Howard's pain with softness, but he knew that Howard needed to learn this lesson. "You're mine, Howard, you need to accept that. I'm not going to let you refuse me. If I want to use your body, whether it's your mouth or your ass, for my pleasure, I will. If you cooperate I won't have to punish you, but if you fight me, I will still make you open for me and I will punish you as well."

 

"It hurt," Howard said softly. "What you just did hurt, Oliver. Are you going to do this to me again?" He shivered, feeling his ass contract painfully against the solid neck of the well seated butt plug. "Ow. Ow."

 

"I hope I don't have to teach you another lesson like this," Oliver said sincerely. "I would like to make love to you, not use my cock to punish you, but just as I will use my hand both to pet you and to punish you, so will I use sex as discipline if it's warranted. This isn't a negotiable issue, Howard, it's a fact." Oliver rotated the butt plug and decided that despite Howard's obvious discomfort, it was not going to damage him. "Lie still and let your body accommodate to the stretch," he suggested to Howard. "It will hurt less if you just accept it."

 

"Or what?" Howard demanded. "Are you going to paddle me again now?" Howard began to cry.

 

"Howard." Oliver ignored Howard's indignation and drew Howard into his arms, not letting Howard pull away despite his halfhearted attempts to struggle. "I hear how hurt and angry you are," Oliver said, enfolding Howard's body in the warmth of his own heavier one. "Howard, what can I do that would help? I didn't hurt you that badly, I know I didn't. What's this really about?"

 

"You fucked me even though I was crying," Howard said. "When I did that to Alan he called it abuse. Why is it all right for you to do it to me? I don't understand, Oliver. Is it punishment for what I did? You said you weren't going to punish me for that."

 

"It wasn't punishment for your treatment of Alan, Howard." That will come though, Oliver thought unhappily. He resolutely turned his mind back to the present discussion. "This was a lesson in obedience. You need to learn to trust me, you need to let me decide what's best for you, and if you disobey me then yes, I will punish you for that. I gave you two chances to service me, either with your mouth or your ass, and both times you were stubborn and uncooperative," Oliver said. "You deserved to be paddled and you deserved to have your ass reamed out and you deserve to lie there with a butt plug deep in your ass reminding you that you're not in control."

 

"It hurt a lot, Oliver." Howard closed his eyes."You hurt me, Oliver. This time, you hurt me a lot." Oliver's explanation made a dubious sort of sense to him, but the butt plug hurt and the fucking and paddling had hurt and Oliver seemed not to care that he was sore and a little bit afraid.

 

"Open your eyes, Howard, and look at me." Oliver patted his cheek gently. "Now please, Howard."

 

Howard sighed softly and hopelessly. He complied with Oliver's request with his tears spontaneously spilling over as he opened his eyes.

 

"I'm your top, Howard." Oliver kissed his wet cheeks gently. He could tell Howard's feelings hurt just as badly as his ass did. "You need to accept my choices without pouting or sulking. If you don't, I will punish you. Do you understand me?" There was neither anger nor apology in his voice, just certainty.

 

"Yes, Oliver," Howard said very softly. He had had his position demonstrated conclusively.

 

"All right then, try to calm down a little." Oliver arranged them both of the bed. "Shh, it's over now. I've got you." He held Howard as Howard tried to find a comfortable position. "Rest a bit and then we'll have some dinner. I think we'll eat here tonight."

 

"Oh thank you," Howard said fervently. The thought of facing the dining room when he was this sore and this shaky was terrifying. With a start he realized that Oliver had, as usual, judged to a nicety just how far to go. Howard knew he'd never been that good at judging the needs of any of his submissives. "Thank you."

 

"You're welcome," Oliver said, touched by the sincerity in Howard's voice. "You're mine, Howard. I'm going to take good care of you."

 

Howard thought wistfully how much he wished that he really were Oliver's, that he really belonged to someone. He couldn't imagine what life after the program was going to be like. "Oliver, may I ask you a question?" Howard ventured tentatively.

 

"Certainly, if you're polite." Oliver saw Howard hesitate, licking his lips nervously. "Don't be afraid. I'm not going to punish you for being curious, as long as you're polite. What is it that you want to know, Howard?"

 

"What's going to happen to me when we're done here?" Howard whispered. He closed his eyes. Oh god, he thought to himself, I asked it. Why am I so anxious about the answer?

 

"Open your eyes and look at me, Howard," Oliver said. "I'm not going to have a conversation with you until you do." He waited until Howard obeyed. "What do you want to happen, Howard?" Oliver again waited patiently, this time for his silence to pull an answer from Howard.

 

"I wish I could find someone--" Howard said softly. "I don't think it will happen, though."

 

"Why not, Howard?" Oliver asked. "You're a likable man."

 

"I'd never be able to trust anyone to top me. And I'm not cut out to be anyone's top, I know that now." Howard sounded sad.

 

"You trust me," Oliver said. "You'll find someone else you can trust."

 

"I don't think so," Howard said softly. "It doesn't really matter, anyway."

 

"It matters to me what happens to you when our work here is done. You matter to me. What do you mean by 'it doesn't really matter', Howard?" Oliver asked sternly.

 

"Nothing," Howard said.

 

"'Nothing' isn't an acceptable answer, Howard," Oliver said quietly. "I think you know that." He rolled Howard onto his stomach and rested his hand on Howard's butt. "Talk to me."

 

"I can't! Please don't spank me again, I'm too sore, please don't," Howard begged. "Oliver, please, I can't explain what I mean, I just can't."

 

Oliver brought his hand down sharply in the center of Howard's buttocks and Howard's head flew up as the butt plug vibrated with the impact. "Can't or won't? You know better than that. Do you really want me to spank you again so soon?" Oliver asked quietly. "Or are you going to be a good boy and talk to me?" Oliver spanked Howard slowly and deliberately until he felt rather than heard Howard begin to cry helplessly. Clearly he wasn't going to get any coherent conversation from Howard today. "All right, Howard, I'll take your word for it that you can't explain what you mean. I'll let it go for tonight. I've got you, Howard, we're going to be all right. We'll work it out, I promise."

 

"We?" Howard was still crying, but he managed to repeat the one word that mattered most. "We?"

 

"We," Oliver confirmed. He rubbed firm circles over the small of Howard's back with a warm hand, wanting to offer comfort. "I like you, Howard. I really like you. I'm not going to let you leave the program without a top you can trust."

 

"You'd maybe want me? For yourself, I mean," Howard sniffled softly. "I know it didn't start out so well between us. I had to trust you; you had to take me on. You'd maybe want me anyway?"

 

"No maybe about it. You're a very good boy." Oliver stroked Howard's hair, thinking. He knew there was a host of practical issues to be dealt with. He and Howard really didn't know each other at all. Oliver had only the vaguest idea what Howard did professionally, just that he was in marketing and owned some sort of firm. Oliver knew his own profession affiliations were equally vague to Howard. Nonetheless Oliver felt that he had connected with Howard on a very deep level. The more mundane issues could be discussed and worked out. "I want you very much. I think we could be very good together."

 

"Oh thank you. Me too, Oliver." Howard closed his eyes, feeling the hard knot of worry in his chest melt away at Oliver's words. For the first time in his life he felt entirely known at his emotional core and entirely safe in Oliver's hands. Drawing a deep, grateful breath, he leaned into Oliver's caress. "Oliver, you aren't going to leave me, are you?"

 

"No, Howard," Oliver said reassuringly. "'Mine' means 'mine for keeps.' You don't have to worry about me leaving you. I am going to take care of you from now on. Sometimes you may not like my methods, but you can trust that I'm not going to leave you, Howard. You are mine. You belong to me."

 

"Oh Oliver." Howard swallowed hard. He had no idea how he had changed to the point where Oliver's edict was comforting rather than frightening. "Yes, please, I want that. I want to be yours. I want you."

 

Oliver continued to cuddle Howard until Howard grew restless, then gestured at the tray of food that sat on the table alongside the bed. "It's time to eat now. Here, sit up, I'm going to feed you."

 

"Am I ever going to get to eat by myself again?" Howard asked, even as he automatically opened his mouth.

 

"All in good time," Oliver said. "Right now it's my pleasure to feed you and it's in your best interest to cooperate. I think we've established that already?" He paused for Howard's fervent nod. "I thought so." Howard ate obediently from Oliver's hand, no longer resentful, but rather comforted by being nourished, by being cared for so completely and so intimately. What had once seemed a humiliation had somehow become a sign of Oliver's affection and caring. "Thank you, Oliver," Howard said at the end of the meal. Since Oliver had never required that ritual courtesy and Howard had seldom offered it, it was meant as much more than a perfunctory thank you and Oliver knew it.

 

The evening's ease gave way to a difficult next morning. Howard was reluctant when prodded to turn over for his usual morning fucking.

 

"Kneel up for me right now," Oliver said firmly, grasping Howard's hips and tugging him up. "You know the routine, Howard. Now relax while I take this butt plug out and then I'm going to give you the thorough fucking you deserve." Carefully Oliver eased the butt plug from Howard's ass, not reacting to Howard's gutteral moan as the plug's bulge distended his ass before pulling free.

 

"No, please, I'm too sore from yesterday." Howard groaned, flopping forward again. Before he could say anything else, he felt himself being tugged from bed and hustled into the bathroom.

 

"Piss or I'll catheterize you," Oliver said sharply. "You're on thin ice here, Howard. I wouldn't push your luck."

 

Sullenly Howard obeyed. He was unprepared for what happened next.

 

"Maybe I need to take you down a little deeper first," Oliver said thoughtfully, turning Howard from the toilet. " I'm going to give you an enema now and you're going to be a very good boy for me, aren't you?" Oliver said quietly, filling the clear enema bag with warm water and a pinch of salt.

 

"Please, please don't do this to me, Oliver," Howard said abjectly, even as he automatically moved toward the steel topped table. He was surprised when Oliver stopped him with a hand on his arm.

 

"You need this, Howard, you need to accept that I'm in control. Everything will be better once you can do that. Come now." Oliver led the bemused Howard back to the bedroom. He hung the enema bag on the headboard and reaching into the bedside table for lube, seated himself on the side of the bed and drew Howard back over his lap.

 

"Please don't do it like this." Howard cried quietly, the last of his resistance gone, as Oliver took a gob of lube on his finger and gently applied it to his opening before slipping the enema nozzle inside. He gave Howard a moment to adjust to the penetration before unclamping the hose and letting the warm water enter him. "Please stop," Howard whispered, overwhelmed by the intensity of the intrusion and by the intimacy of being held over Oliver's lap for the procedure. "Please, Oliver, it's hurting me. Please."

 

"You're all right, we're almost done." Oliver clamped the hose and stroked Howard's back reassuringly. "I'm going to help you. Hold it now." Without giving Howard a chance to protest, Oliver substituted a well lubricated butt plug with a distinct bulge for the nozzle. He eased Howard back on the bed and began to rub his stomach gently. "Breathe for me, that's it."

 

"I can't," Howard groaned, unnerved and needing reassurance. "I can't!"

 

"You can if I tell you to, can't you, Howard?" Oliver took his hand and lifted Howard's face so that their eyes met. "I've got you. Stand up," Oliver said gently, helping Howard to his feet. He led him to the bathroom. "You can remove the plug yourself, Howard."

 

"I can't!" Real panic now in Howard's voice. "I can't, it's too large, it hurts, I can't–"

 

Oliver wrapped his arm around Howard, pulling him snug to his body, and with his other hand spanked him hard, twice. Howard froze.

 

"No more hysterics," Oliver said quietly. "You can push the plug out, just breathe. That's it, sit down, reach between your legs..."

 

The plug came free with a gushing sound and Howard sobbed, embarrassed.

 

"It's nothing I haven't seen before," Oliver reassured him. He took the butt plug from Howard and dropped it in the sink. "That's it, let it out, you're all right."

 

His bowels now empty, Howard was ushered into the shower. He cried miserably under the warm water and he was shivering by the time Oliver helped him out. Oliver wrapped him in a thick towel and then lifted him easily over his shoulder and took him back to bed. Howard tried to roll away, but Oliver pulled him into a hug, holding him firmly.

 

"You were doing so well, Howard," Oliver said softly. "What changed for you?"

 

"I need you now! I didn't need you before," Howard whispered. "If I lose you now, I'm afraid I'll die."

 

"You're not going to lose me," Oliver promised. "I'm not going to let you down, Howard. You're mine now."

 

"I'm scared," Howard said miserably. "It's scary. Oliver, you make me feel loved, make me feel safe, for the first time in my entire life, only you're too hard on me," Howard began to cry, sadly and quietly, and Oliver wrapped his arms around Howard, rocking him.

 

"Shh, shh, you're safe, I've got you." Oliver stroked Howard's face gently, thinking about what Howard had just admitted. It said something very sad that this was the first time in Howard's life that he'd felt safe and known. "Tell me about your family, Howard. Tell me about your parents."

 

"I don't know why my mother had a child in the first place. I suspect she wasn't organized enough to realize that she was pregnant until it was too late to do anything but have the baby. She didn't like doctors in any case, so childbirth probably seemed less fearsome than an abortion." Howard glared at Oliver silently.

 

"Are you trying to shock me?" Oliver asked. "I understand talking about this is difficult for you, Howard, but you are not going to make it easier for yourself by making me angry at you. If we need to have this discussion with you face down over my lap, we will."

 

"No, please, I'll do better," Howard said hastily, cringing at Oliver's suggestion. It was bad enough to try and tell Oliver these things face to face; he didn't want to be bare over Oliver's lap at the same time.

 

He's not going to talk to me as long as he has an alternative, Oliver thought to himself. I don't even think turning him over my lap is going to do it. He's so well defended on this subject, I think he'll fight me all the way. No, I think I'm going to have to take this to the next level.

 

Oliver decided that a little session strapped to a spanking bench was in order. He requisitioned the bench through the program's usual excellent, invisible channels and a bench was brought to their bedroom and set up per his instructions.

 

Coming back into the room with Oliver after a casual walk outside, Howard was stopped in his tracks by the sight of the new furniture. "What the fuck is that--" he began.

 

"I'm sure you've seen a spanking bench before," Oliver said calmly. "I'm not convinced our progress is satisfactory." He waved toward the bench. "Come on up, Howard. That's right, you know how this works, arms to the front, legs on the rear supports, relax and let yourself rest on the cushioned portion. You'll be more comfortable that way."

 

"Comfortable?" Howard began to back nervously away from the bench. He didn't like the prospect of being face down over it one bit. "Why, Oliver, what did I do? I don't get it! Why are you going to punish me like this?"

 

"It's not punishment, it's an element in your education," Oliver said. "Mount up and get into position, don't take all day. If you're going to be stubborn about this, I'm going to fasten the straps. Is that clear?"

 

"Yes, but–"

 

"Think very carefully for a moment, Howard, about how I expect you to reply when I ask you to do something, and then answer my last question properly."

 

"Yes," said Howard, sulkily. He moved slowly toward the bench. "Please, Oliver, I really don't want to do this!"

 

Oliver caught him by the arm and hustled him onto the bench, pressing his body forward, his head down. He brought the heavy attached strapping over Howard's torso and snugged it down tight so that Howard was pinned flat, his belly pressed into the cushioned bench. "Are you finished complaining? Because I can use the wrist and ankle restraints, too."

 

"It's not fair!" Howard protested, even as Oliver swiftly caught his wrists and ankles in quick succession and cuffed them in place. He struggled then to get loose. "Fuck you, let me up, fuck you Oliver, I don't want this, let me the fuck off this. What kind of shit is this? Let me go!"

 

"Do you want to use your safe word?" Oliver asked.

 

Howard fell silent. He shook his head no. Tears of frustration and humiliation clouded his sight and he sobbed once, bitterly, as they overflowed his brimming eyes and dripped to the leather beneath his head.

 

"Easy," Oliver said. "Are you done with your tantrum, Howard?"

 

"Yes, Oliver," Howard said softly. "Please don't make me stay like this. Please don't spank me like this. Please, Oliver, please."

 

"Do you think I enjoy seeing you this upset, Howard?" Oliver asked.

 

"No, but–" Howard began and then remembered what Oliver had said about replying properly to his questions. "No, Oliver." Despite his best efforts at calming himself, he was shivering with anxiety.

 

"All right, then," Oliver said. "I'm going to give you another chance. Will you stay in position if I take the straps and cuffs off?"

 

"Yes, Oliver," Howard said miserably.

 

"Good boy," Oliver said. He rubbed Howard's back reassuringly, trying to offer some comfort. "I'm going to remove the restraints. If you get up, I'm going to put them back on and then I'm going to punish you for breaking position. Is that clear?"

 

"Yes, Oliver." Howard stayed immobile as Oliver undid the straps.

 

"Now we're going to talk. I'm going to ask you some questions and you're going to answer them as honestly and as fully as you can. If you don't answer me in a satisfactory way, I'm going to spank you. If you try to get up during either our discussion or while I'm spanking you, I'll strap you down again. Do you understand me?"

 

"Yes, Oliver." Howard tried not to sound as scared as he felt.

 

"Now let's try this again. Tell me about your parents," Oliver said.

 

"There isn't much to tell," Howard said, tensing as Oliver laid his hand across his butt. "No, wait, don't! I'll tell you, I'll tell you!"

 

Oliver gave Howard's ass a firm pat, not a real spank, only a deliberate reminder of his vulnerable position. "So tell me," he said."

 

"They were rich, careless and completely absorbed in themselves. It wasn't that I was trying to take over, it was just that neither of them had any idea about running a household and I could see that by the time I was, I don't know how old. Seven? Eight? Organization? Meals? Clothes? Things that other kids' parents did for them, I did all by myself. That was all they loved about me anyway, that I was useful and I didn't make demands on them." He shrugged and then smiled grimly. "I always dreamed of being in charge. Being able to tell someone else what to do. I was going to make that person into a facsimile of me, into someone who'd do for me what I'd always done, only I wasn't going to be weak like my parents, I was going to be strong and competent. And I was. I worked out religiously, I was disciplined about my schoolwork, I participated in every damn sport at our club, everything to make myself into an independent player."

 

Oliver watched Howard's jaw tighten at the memory. "Did it work?" he asked.

 

"Sure it did," Howard snapped. "Ow!"

 

Oliver waited a few seconds for Howard to continue, then brought his palm down smartly for a second time. When Howard remained silent, Oliver drew the small leather paddle from his pocket and delivered two stinging slaps to Howard's ass that left Howard gasping for breath. "Did it work?" Oliver asked again.

 

Howard took a deep breath and let it out slowly before speaking. "Yeah. I learned to take care of myself. I learned not to trust anyone else to be there for me if I didn't take care of myself. Once in awhile I'd watch some stupid punk ass kid get hurt, or cry, and see someone take over for him, and I was so angry I couldn't stand it. I wanted to be the one in charge of him, the one he was grateful to." He was silent for a moment. "I guess that really, I wanted to be the one who had someone take care of him," Howard whispered in a barely audible voice.

 

Oliver rubbed the small of Howard's back comfortingly, aware how difficult these stabs at introspection were for him, but convinced of the importance of this discussion. "And then you went out on the scene, as a top?"

 

"Top. Dominant. Yeah. I sure as hell wasn't going to trust some other SOB to take care of me. To hurt me, to make me come, to make me feel good, to love me." Howard's voice was bleak and bitter.

 

"What happened?"

 

"They made me angry, the submissives I got involved with. Always asking, always wanting, always pushing. I had to stand up to them and at the same time, be patient, kind and good to them. They didn't deserve the sort of indulgence they wanted if they wouldn't obey me. I learned that a lot of them liked my demands, my strictness, even my anger. It made them excited. It made me excited. Only I wasn't as sure as I wanted to be that it was the right thing. Sometimes I'd look at one of them, all bound naked for my pleasure, and wish it was me. I was jealous of them. They took everything from me and I got fuck all from them." Howard grimaced. "That should have been a fucking clue, right?"

 

"Did you ever talk to anyone about that?" Oliver asked neutrally. "About your envy of your submissives? About how you sometimes wished you could change places with them?"

 

"No! Admit I needed something like that? That I was weak like that?"

 

Oliver tapped Howard's ass with the paddle, just hard enough to sting, and watched Howard shift his weight nervously. "You did need that, though," Oliver said gently. "You weren't weak, you're wrong about that part, but you did need that side of it. Someone to take care of you. Someone to top you. Someone you could submit to."

 

"It scares me, Oliver. It scares me even now, with you. It scared me even more then and I didn't think about it, ever. I didn't even let myself remember that I'd ever thought it," Howard said, hating to be this naked, but resigned to the fact that only honesty would spare him another taste of that miserable paddle. He sighed and swallowed hard, his distress clear. "I'm scared, Oliver."

 

"I know, Howard. I'll take good care of you, though, you don't have to be afraid. I'll keep you safe. I'll give you what you need." Oliver rested his hand for a moment on Howard's upturned butt, patting it gently, thinking that it had actually taken the bare minimum of swats to get Howard to talk freely. The position, the dominance it emphasized, had been enough. "Let me help you up now."

 

Awkwardly Howard backed up and off the spanking bench, flushing as he took in again what he must have looked like bent over it. "Thanks, Oliver," he said as Oliver held him for a moment, steadying him while his head cleared.

 

Oliver took Howard's hand in his own, entwining their fingers. "You've been very honest today and I appreciate that." He drew Howard forward and kissed him thoroughly.

 

"This isn't so bad," Howard said softly, licking his lips as Oliver withdrew. "I thought it was going to be a whole lot worse and a whole lot more difficult, talking about this stuff with you. This wasn't bad at all." He closed his eyes. "I've been such an idiot for so long, Oliver, haven't I?"

 

"Not an idiot," Oliver said. "Frightened of your own nature, frightened of admitting even to yourself who you were and what you wanted, frightened of daring to hope for any of it...yes. An idiot...no. A scared and angry man who didn't know himself and didn't trust anyone to help him, yes. We've been working on that, though, and you've made wonderful progress. You can't change the past, Howard; none of us can. You can only be who you are now."

 

"I'd complain about your mystical bullshit, but you'd probably spank me," Howard said, watching Oliver's face carefully, not sure if his tease would be permitted or not.

 

To his relief Oliver laughed at him and patted his rump gently. "You are a brat, Howard," he said fondly.

 

Relieved at the affection in Oliver's response, Howard leaned into him and let Oliver wrap an arm around his waist. "Your brat though?" Howard asked quietly.

 

"Mine." Oliver hugged Howard to him. "What a good boy you are. Come, let's get showered and then we're going to eat in the dining room. I think I'm going to let you handle your own utensils today."

 

Howard smiled, a broad, genuine grin, before reining himself back in. Who'd have thought I'd ever be happy to hear something like that, he thought to himself. Aloud he said only, "Thank you, Oliver." I've changed, he thought, and he wasn't sure whether that was a comforting or frightening realization.

 

"You're doing very well. You're being a very good boy for me," Oliver said, watching the play of emotions on Howard's face. "I'm very pleased with you."

 

Howard relaxed in the warm shower, feeling surprisingly good for someone who'd been paddled twice in the past 24 hours. He was sore, of course, but it was not altogether an unpleasant feeling. He felt as if he'd been laid bare and he quite literally had, but the physical exposure was nothing to the emotional exposure he'd submitted to. Yet it was all of a piece with the increasing demands for openness Oliver had made since the first day Howard began this journey.

 

Oliver waited until Howard was drying off in the bedroom to take his turn in the shower. He wanted Howard again, the way he always wanted him when Howard offered his submission willingly. He wanted to care for Howard, to see him happier, to see him grow into his true self. It was an entirely other feeling to the adrenaline rush of mastery he felt when Howard fought him on something. Oliver's entire body felt suffused with sexual energy, but he showered without bringing himself to orgasm, enjoying the tease of extended arousal.

 

Howard ate very little at dinner. His ass was tender enough that sitting was no pleasure and Oliver didn't push him. Back in their room, Oliver sent Howard to wash up and then had him lie face down over his lap while he inserted two antibiotic suppositories.

 

"You're not torn, but I want to make sure you don't have any small abrasions," Oliver said. He patted Howard's buttocks gently. "No butt plug tonight, let's give you a little time off."

 

Howard was exhausted from the physical and emotional rigors of the day and he barely managed a coherent "thank you" before dropping off to sleep.

 

Chapter 9

 

As always, Oliver awoke hard. His hand went automatically to his cock, gently stroking it as he enjoyed the thought of taking Howard, who was just beginning to stir alongside him. Howard's breakthrough recognition and admission of his desires came back to Oliver. Oliver felt a surge of tenderness toward Howard. We could be good together, I'm sure of it, Oliver thought. Rolling over Howard so that they were face to face, Oliver cupped Howard's chin in his palm, tilting Howard's face toward his own. Oliver leaned in and brushed his lips over Howard's in a gentle kiss, then drew back and watched Howard's face carefully.

 

Howard sighed with pleasure and leaned in to Oliver, hoping for more. He licked his lips in deliberate provocation and parted them eagerly as Oliver leaned in again and kissed him more deeply. "Yes, please," Howard whispered.

 

Oliver smoothed Howard's hair back from his face and ended the gesture with his hand firm against the nape of Howard's neck, pressing Howard forward. He kissed Howard yet again, this time exploring Howard's mouth with his tongue and gently sucking Howard's tongue into his own mouth. Oliver felt a surge of genuine desire as Howard returned his kisses with equal passion. He pressed Howard back on the bed and rolled on top of him, kissing him continuously and at the same time, letting his hardening cock press into Howard.

 

"Yes, oh yes," Howard moaned. He was floating away in the pleasure of the moment. Howard had never liked kissing, had never like this sort of foreplay, but this was a sort of desire he'd never felt before. He welcomed Oliver's caresses, he opened hungrily to Oliver's mouth on his and he felt his own cock rising to press back against Oliver's. "What are you doing to me?" Howard asked. He had never felt this way in his life and he didn't understand it at all.

 

"I'm going to make love to you," Oliver said. "I'm going to kiss you until your lips are swollen." He suited his actions to his words. Howard leaned back and let Oliver take him over. He opened his mouth to Oliver's fierce kiss, moaning as Oliver's tongue explored him, panting as the kiss continued. "I'm going to lick and suck your nipples until they're wet and stiff and then I'm going to take your legs on my shoulders and I'm going to sink my cock into you and you're going to take me all the way to the hilt and I'm going to take your cock in my hand and stroke you and we're going to come together and I'm going to watch your face as you feel me shoot my cum deep inside you."

 

Howard writhed under Oliver as Oliver lapped at first one nipple, then the other, his fingers following his tongue's trail, molding the nipples into little peaks. Howard tried to throw Oliver off him, but Oliver was stronger and heavier and met Howard's resistance simply by pinning him more firmly to the bed.

 

"I can't take this, stop, please," Howard pleaded. He'd never let any of his lovers play with his body like this and the sensations Oliver's tongue and fingers were producing made him shiver and wince and went straight to his cock. His traitorous cock, which bobbed eagerly at his stomach, as rigid as it had ever been.

 

"Stop?" Oliver laughed as his fingers continued to torment Howard. He went from tracing the contracted skin around Howard's nipple to tracing the sensitive rim around the head of his cock and his laughter grew as Howard strained under him, trying to avoid his exploration, trying to stop the barrage of sensation. He only stopped laughing when he saw that the stimulation really was becoming too much for Howard, who had tears of frustration welling in his eyes. "Easy, Howard, I'll slow down. This is supposed to be pleasurable, not painful." He switched from teasing to soothing Howard's excited nipples with gentle pressure from his slightly cupped hand. "It feels good, Howard, you're just not used to it. Easy, lie still now, be a good boy for me." He kissed Howard's mouth gently and thoroughly and Howard calmed down. "Better?"

 

"Better," Howard agreed, roughly dashing the tears from the corner of his eyes. "I'm not crying," he said quickly. "I'm just not used to this sort of foreplay. I don't do vanilla stuff."

 

"I didn't mean to make you cry," Oliver said, gently wiping the tears that had spilled on Howard's cheeks. "I want to make this good for you. Come on now, can you relax for me and bring your legs up? Here's lube; get your cock hard again. That's it, good boy, look at how ready I am for you." Oliver coated his own cock with lube, stroking the shining, heavy shaft. "Bring your legs up, that's my boy," he coaxed Howard, helping him into position. He saw Howard bite his lip. "I know, this is too vanilla for a player like you. Indulge me anyway, Howard. I want to see your face as I put my cock up your ass. I want to see your eyes as I pull you over the edge." He positioned his cock at the entrance to Howard's body and gripping Howard's hips, pulled him forward and up until he was fully inside.

 

The angle of penetration was different than any Howard had experienced before and he felt uncomfortably tight. He willed himself to relax, but it was difficult and he bit his lip at the sharpness of the sensations.

 

"Do you need me to stop?" Oliver asked quietly. "It's a real question, Howard, yes or no, there's no right answer here. Tell me what you want."

 

"Please don't stop," Howard whispered. He was embarrassed when Oliver still hesitated. "It's all right, for fuck's sake, hurt me, I don't care, I can take it."

 

"I don't want to hurt you, Howard," Oliver said. "Relax, I can make this feel very, very good for you, you don't have to grit your teeth through it. Or we can wait altogether. This is supposed to be us making love, not you being disciplined. I don't want to punish you and I don't want this to hurt you. Relax for me, Howard." He reached for Howard's cock, pushing Howard's hand aside, and began to stroke it exactly the way Howard enjoyed, hoping the familiar sensations would settle Howard's overexcited nervous system. It worked; Howard's body softened around Oliver and after a few more strokes of Oliver's hand on his cock and Oliver's cock inside his body, Howard's hips began to move as he thrust back, seeking more depth and friction. "Good boy," Oliver praised him, meaning it sincerely. "My good boy." He watched the play of emotions that crossed Howard's face.

 

Howard tried to trust Oliver to make it good. He closed his eyes, unable to bear seeing Oliver looking at him. In this position, the act of submitting to Oliver, of opening to allow Oliver's cock entrance to his body, was almost more intimate than Howard could stand. To be seen even by Oliver in this position of willing subjugation terrified Howard almost as much as the actual penetration thrilled him and felt utterly right. Keeping his eyes closed was his last defense.

 

"Open your eyes," Oliver commanded. "Look at me, Howard. Look at me taking you, making you mine. Open your eyes now." Oliver smacked the side of Howard's thigh smartly when Howard didn't immediately obey and Howard's eyes opened in shock at the slight sting. "Good boy, that's it, look at me."

 

Howard forced his eyes to meet Oliver's. What he saw there startled him. Oliver was smiling at him, his expression warm and caring and... Howard hesitated even to think the word that described Oliver's look. Loving. Oliver was looking at Howard as if he loved him. "I'm afraid!" Howard exclaimed. "I'm scared, Oliver."

 

"Don't be," Oliver said gently. "This is what you want, isn't it, Howard? To be mine? To feel my hand on your cock, my cock up your ass? To give yourself fully to me, without holding back? You want this, don't you?"

 

"Yes," Howard moaned, melting in the rush of sensations. "So good, Oliver, why is it so good? Yes!" He tightened all over, his skin flushing as his orgasm approached. Oliver speeded up his stroking and thrusting as Howard's hips rose again and again to meet him. "Yes!" Howard cried out. His cum sprayed everywhere as Oliver continued to work his cock hard with his hand. His ass tightened and deep inside him, he could feel Oliver's cock jerk as hot cum spurted into him. "I can feel you in me," he moaned. "Oliver, I feel you coming inside me."

 

"You're so tight, so wonderfully tight," Oliver said, slipping gently free. "You've never done it face to face this way before, have you?"

 

"No," Howard said, his eyes closing as his whole body seemed to collapse in on itself. "Never. I think I'm dead."

 

"You're not dead, just well fucked," Oliver chuckled. "Well fucked and well loved." Oliver leaned in and kissed Howard's lips gently. "Mine."

 

The two men lay together in a languid heap. Every so often Oliver would run a hand over Howard possessively or Howard would touch Oliver's body wonderingly, each amazed that they had found the other, each amazed that the other had reached them so profoundly.

 

"You really don't have any experience in a loving relationship, do you?" Oliver said after awhile.

 

"No," Howard admitted. "I can learn though, Oliver. I learn fast." He didn't want to lose what he'd barely begun to discover.

 

"Don't worry, Howard, you'll have lots of time," Oliver soothed him. "I'm just sad you've been alone for so long."

 

"My whole life," Howard said quietly. "I just didn't know it before."

 

"I've got you now," Oliver said. "Come on, we should get up and get something to eat. We have the gym booked for before lunch and then we can take a picnic down to the beach."

 

"Just a picnic?" Howard asked. Usually a walk down to the beach included a stop at the cabana and some intense sex play. The new connection he felt with Oliver made him happy, but at the same time, he felt uneasy with the thoughts and feelings Oliver had brought to the surface. Howard wasn't sure he'd be able to bear being sexually open as well and the cabana was where he'd endured some of Oliver's most intense penetration.

 

"We'll see," Oliver said. He had enjoyed their morning's lovemaking enormously, but he was well aware that Howard was already pulling back from the intimacy they'd experienced. He had a strong sense of foreboding about the day ahead; he expected Howard to challenge him and he was determined not to fail him.

 

The walk through the woods to the beach was quiet and pleasant. Oliver let Howard set the pace and Howard moved purposefully toward the cabana.

 

"Do you want to go inside?" Oliver asked.

 

"Yes. No. I don't know." Howard was surprised Oliver had asked what he wanted; more often Oliver simply decreed what they'd do and Howard obeyed.

 

"You look worried," Oliver said softly. "Are you?"

 

"No!" Howard backed up a step. "No," he said more calmly. "I'm not worried. Why would I be worried? What are you going to do to me?"

 

"Howard." Oliver took Howard's hand. "Let's go inside. I'm going to make love to you again, that's what I'm going to do to you." Howard pulled back, but Oliver held his hand fast. "Come inside. Be a good boy now."

 

At the familiar phrase, which had somehow over the last several weeks changed from a despised label to a comforting endearment, Howard moved forward, closer to Oliver. "I'll be good." He followed Oliver inside.

 

Howard toed out of his sneakers and Oliver quickly stripped him of his shirt and pants and underwear. Oliver undressed swiftly and wrapped his arms around Howard, not wanting to let Howard have too much time to think. He backed Howard toward the couch and tumbled Howard down onto his back. Howard tried to turn over and Oliver gave him a light spank and turned him back.

 

"I want to see your face when I take you. I want to kiss you, to feel you open your mouth to my tongue at the same time as you open your ass to my cock. I want you to give it all up for me," Oliver said, reaching for the lube he kept in the basket beside the couch. "I want you open for me, body and mind. You're mine, Howard."

 

Oliver's possessiveness thrilled Howard, but the lingering question of why Oliver would want him made it hard for Howard to really relax into Oliver's embrace. "Yes," Howard whispered as he felt Oliver's sure fingers prepping him. He squirmed as he was pressed onto his back with his thighs pressed to his chest. Then Oliver's cock was at his opening and pressing inside and Oliver leaned forward and captured his mouth. "Yes," Howard groaned. His hard cock pressed into his belly, his head dropped back, and he came, gasping for breath, his slick cum between them speeding Oliver's thrusts.

 

Oliver came hard, his cock pulsing hot splashes of cum deep inside Howard. "Mine," Oliver said fiercely. "All mine." Howard tried to roll away from Oliver as Oliver's flaccid cock slipped from his opening., but Oliver held him firmly beneath him, kissing him over and over until Howard lay quietly. "Now that's a good boy," Oliver said. "Stay put."

 

Oliver retrieved the lunch the kitchen had prepared for them. He brought the drinks and sandwiches over to the couch and sat down, propping his back against the wall and drawing Howard up alongside him.

 

"I thought I was allowed to feed myself now," Howard grumbled, balking as Oliver held a piece of sandwich to his mouth.

 

Oliver kissed him gently. "You're still my boy and you'll eat from my hand if I want you to," he warned Howard quietly.

 

With a sigh, Howard opened his mouth. He ate without further complaint, but it was hard to revert to his previous status. "Can I eat by myself at dinner?"

 

"Yes," Oliver said. "Come on now, let's walk a bit." He stood and gathered up the remains of their lunch and the empty packets of lubricant and threw them in the garbage and then dropped the soiled towel in the hamper by the door. "Let's go." He took Howard's hand and led him out of the cabana, closing the door behind them.

 

"Who cleans up out here, anyway?" Howard asked, pulling his hand free. He followed Oliver back toward the trail to the house.

 

"The staff Marcus keeps for the program," Oliver said. "Marcus and the board of Le Plaisir have committed a lot of resources to this program. It's part of the way those of us who are serious about BDSM contribute to our community."

 

"Are there a lot of...clients...here like me?" Howard asked. He'd wondered ever since his first meal in the dining room how many others were housed under this roof.

 

"Enough," Oliver said in a non committal tone. "A half dozen, more or less, at any one time, I'd estimate. We don't get involved with each other's clients, so I don't know very much about any of them beyond the fact that the board considered them worth a second chance."

 

"Have you done this before?" Howard asked.

 

"If by 'this' you mean taking a client through the program, yes. If you're wondering whether I've ever considered a more personal and lasting commitment to a client, no. You're the first, Howard." Oliver took Howard's hand again. "What are you worrying about, Howard?"

 

"I'm not worried," Howard said reflexively, and then, realizing that Oliver wouldn't accept his denial, added softly, "I just want to know where I stand. If I'm just a client, a temporary project, or something more than that."

 

" I've never fallen in love with a client before," Oliver said. "You're very, very special to me and I don't consider our relationship temporary." He turned Howard so that they were face to face and cupping Howard's face in both of his hands, kissed him firmly, pressing his tongue into Howard's mouth.

 

Howard breathed in the scent of Oliver, relaxed into the warmth of his caress and the insistent exploration of his tongue and for the first time in his life, let himself imagine that he could be loved and cared for. It felt awful. All Howard could think of was how unsafe he felt, how vulnerable and how out of control. He pulled back from Oliver abruptly. "Let me go."

 

Oliver sensed Howard's changed mood and released him. "Mind your manners, Howard. There's no need to snap at me."

 

"Sorry," Howard said ungraciously.

 

Oliver considered making an issue of it, but Howard had been so good at the cabana that he was reluctant to end their outing on a sour note. He chose instead to lead them back to their suite, where Howard stripped and they both showered before dinner.

 

"Do I need to remind you that you are expected to be polite, pleasant and communicative at dinner?" Oliver asked Howard.

 

"No, Oliver," Howard said quickly. "I understand." He had no wish to incur Oliver's displeasure, which inevitably led to a spanking. He followed Oliver obediently down the hall to the dining room and sat quietly while Oliver ordered the evening's special for both of them.

 

"Look at how they serve this." Howard scowled at his plate of blackened redfish. Nothing could have pleased Howard at that moment, but the chef's presentation of the Cajun dish seemed particularly lackluster to his jaundiced eye.

 

Oliver raised his eyebrows. "Indeed." He began to regret not having spanked Howard back in their room. This meal seemed unlikely to end happily.

 

"I won't eat it." Howard said, disappointed that Oliver didn't seem more concerned about his preferences.

 

"There's other food on the table," Oliver said, calmly digging into his two large fillets. "Bread, olives, celery. Take what you like."

 

"I'd *like* something decent to eat instead of this crap!" Howard found himself out of his seat and bent over Oliver's hip before he knew what had happened.

 

"You don't have to eat anything you don't like, but you do have to be civil at the table." Oliver swatted him hard, a half dozen spanks with the full force of his arm behind them, and then deposited Howard back in his chair. There was a rustle of conversation among the other diners before the usual hush descended back over the dining room.

 

"Have some bread?" Oliver handed Howard the basket.

 

"I'm not hungry," Howard said very quietly, wishing he were anywhere else. There was nothing at all erotic in this sort of humiliation; it was pure shame and Howard had no idea how he was going to endure the rest of the meal. "I'm not hungry, Oliver, please may I be excused?"

 

"No," Oliver said complacently. "Sit with me. I expect you to be pleasant, civil and polite company. Don't eat if you're not hungry."

 

The trouble was that Howard was hungry. He had a fast metabolism, he'd been active all day and the atmosphere of the dining room had made him hungrier than he'd been despite his determination to protest the menu. He wasn't going to give Oliver the satisfaction of knowing that, though. "Yes, Oliver," Howard replied, doing his best to keep anything Oliver could have described as attitude out of his voice. He wasn't about to risk another embarrassing flurry of swats in public.

 

"Very good meal, thank you," Oliver told the waiter, who was hovering with coffee and tea near their table. "No thank you, nothing for dessert for either of us. Come, Howard."

 

Howard hadn't anticipated Oliver skipping dessert; Oliver usually encouraged him to have a treat at the end of the meal, something he'd never have imagined a top allowing his submissive. Oliver had just shaken his head at Howard's calorie counting, assuring Howard that he was getting enough exercise that a treat after meals was not only permitted, but an excellent idea. Oliver hadn't warned him he might lose his dessert privileges; Howard felt he'd been cheated and it showed on his face.

 

"Attitude," Oliver said sharply.

 

Howard moved quickly ahead of Oliver toward their private quarters, praying Oliver wouldn't spank him again before the door closed behind them.

 

Oliver not unexpectedly turned Howard into the wall as they entered their suite, giving him three hard spanks.

 

"You think a spanking cures anything!" Howard spat hatefully at Oliver.

 

"Most things," Oliver said, refusing to be drawn into an argument. "Your bad temper, most certainly." Oliver seated himself on the bed and crooked his finger at Howard. "Over my lap."

 

Heart sinking, Howard obeyed. He quivered as Oliver ran his hand over his buttocks and tried not to tense as the hand was lifted.

 

"It's very simple, Howard. You're polite, you're pleasant and you're respectful. If you're not, I'll spank you." Oliver spanked him quickly and soundly, not slowing even as Howard whimpered and twisted involuntarily over his lap.

 

"Please!" Howard finally ground out after the spanking had gone on for far longer than he could bear. "I'm sorry, please stop, I'm sorry."

 

Oliver ignored Howard's protest and continued to spank him despite his increasingly fervent protests.

 

Howard tried to wriggle free. "It's not fair!" Howard yelped. "Fuck you, Oliver. You're not fair!"

 

"You don't ever curse at me," Oliver said. Bringing out the little leather paddle from the drawer of the bedside table, he proceeded to recover already red and shiny regions. He was careful to distribute the smacks evenly, not wanting to leave bruises, but wanting to drive the lesson home with maximal emphasis. "Polite. Civil. Respectful." Each word was accompanied by a crisp tattoo of spanks.

 

Howard sobbed without words, aware only of the inevitable increase in pain that followed each spank and of the impossibility of escaping Oliver's hand wielding the punishing instrument. He had lost all sense of time. Just when it seemed that it would never end, that he would never be able to stop the flow of tears and spit and snot that covered his face, that he would never be able to breathe without moaning in pain, he gradually became aware that the spanking had ended.

 

"All right now," Oliver said, just sharply enough that his words cut through the haze of fluids and emotions Howard was drowning in. "Come on now, it's all over, come on back now." He eased Howard from his lap and slipping an arm around his waist, drew him up onto their bed. "Come on now, lie down with me, I've got you, you're all right." He braced Howard against him and settled them both down lengthwise on the bed front to front. "I have you." He grabbed a wad of tissues from the box beside the bed and patted Howard's face gently. "There now, you're not going to do that again."

 

"I won't!" Howard agreed shakily. His throat was sore, his voice was hoarse and his whole body ached miserably. "I won't, Oliver."

 

Oliver took a butt plug and lube from the night table. "Just the usual nightly reminder of who you belong to, Howard," Oliver said as he rolled Howard face down and ran his hand over Howard's thoroughly paddled ass, ignoring his whimpers of protest. "Spread your legs for me."

 

Howard couldn't believe that Oliver was going to treat this as if it were an ordinary evening. He tensed against the butt plug and Oliver corkscrewed it against his anus until it winked open and admitted it. "It hurts! Take it out! Please Oliver, if you love me?"

 

"All right." To Howard's surprise, Oliver eased the plug out. Howard started to roll over and Oliver spanked his punished ass sharply, making him cry out. "No, keep your legs open. I'm going to fuck you now, Howard. You don't use my affection for you to try and manipulate me. It won't ever work the way you hope it will." He moved between Howard's thighs.

 

"What?" Howard caught his breath sharply, trying to relax as Oliver penetrated him without adding lube. "Oh god Oliver go slower please Oliver please please..."

 

It was a severe fucking, a definite warning not to play games, and Howard accepted it as his due. Each rasp of Oliver's cock over his prostate was as much pain as pleasure and Howard panted, enduring the sharp sensations without further protest.

 

Oliver finished in Howard's ass, withdrew and reinserted the butt plug. "Don't do that again," he said quietly.

 

"Ow." Howard caught his breath sharply as Oliver reinserted the butt plug. It had been a rough penetration and his anus was still contracting spasmodically around the butt plug's neck. "Ow."

 

Oliver rubbed Howard's back in slow circles. "You need to accept your place, Howard," Oliver said. "You will be happier and feel calmer and safer if you accept that I am in control here. You don't need to struggle so hard. Come here now." He settled Howard in his usual place across his chest. "Go to sleep, Howard. I've got you."

 

"I love you?" Howard offered tentatively. He felt thoroughly used and thoroughly Oliver's.

 

"I believe you think you do," Oliver said. "I hope you will someday. I'm going to love you very much before we're done, Howard; I'm already very fond of you."

 

"I'm scared," Howard whispered. "Oliver, do I still have a safe word, I can't remember anymore..."

 

"Howard." Oliver's voice was very gentle. "You have a safe word: mercy. You don't need to worry about that now. You're very, very safe. Now sleep," Oliver crooned. "Come here to me, and sleep."

 

"Oliver? I'm so scared," Howard said softly. "I don't know who I am any more. I don't know how to be a submissive, your submissive. I don't know how to make you love me."

 

"I do love you." Oliver rubbed Howard's back reassuringly. "You don't need to struggle so hard. You need to trust me, Howard. I understand the power exchange aspect of our relationship is still very frightening for you, Howard. It flies in the face of everything you spent years trying to convince yourself was true about your personality and your needs. I understand that, Howard, and I understand how to help you work this through." Oliver kissed him, stroking his face gently. "I've got you now."

 

"I love you, Oliver," Howard said tiredly. "I'll do better. I'm sorry."

 

"Howard, it's all right." Oliver heard the emotion in Howard's voice. "You're really a good boy, I know that and I love you. Sleep, Howard."

 

Howard closed his eyes and melted into Oliver, his body softening as he fell into deep, exhausted sleep. Oliver rubbed Howard's shoulders gently, enjoying the feel of the muscles under the smooth skin. Enjoying the knowledge that Howard, with all his flaws and charms, was his.

 

Howard woke to Oliver's hand stroking his cock. He sighed with pleasure as Oliver worked him harder, his back arching as he came.

 

"Very nice," Oliver said, smiling. He indicated his own swollen cock and pushed Howard's head down. Howard took him in his mouth, licking and sucking until Oliver came. A little cum spilled over Howard's lips and pooled on Oliver's belly. Howard looked sideways at Oliver.

 

"I don't care about that, Howard," Oliver said, drawing Howard up so that he could kiss him. "You're a very good boy. Mine. Now come on, I want to wash you up."

 

Howard groaned, wanting a little more rest, but trundled obediently into the bathroom. Oliver brushed Howard's hand aside and positioned Howard's cock so that he could pee, then tugged the butt plug from Howard's ass and dropped it in the sink.

 

"Table," Oliver said and swallowing hard, Howard obeyed. Oliver gave him a very warm, very large enema and Howard had to struggle at the last not to protest. Oliver rubbed his belly comfortingly, appreciating how hard Howard was trying.

 

"Good boy. You're a very, very good boy," Oliver crooned, and Howard relaxed at the praise, glad for Oliver's gentle hand easing his cramps. "Just a few more minutes, Howard, you can do that for me, can't you?"

 

Howard breathed through his cramps, trying not to disgrace himself, and finally Oliver helped him off the table and left him to empty himself in privacy. He felt cold and shaky and very tender. He was very grateful to return to the bedroom and sink into Oliver's arms. "What are we going to do today?" he asked Oliver, a little tentatively.

 

"I want to fist you, Howard." Oliver stroked Howard's cheek gently, watching the tears well in his eyes and spill over his eyelashes. "You've been so very good for me, Howard. I want you to trust me."

 

"I'm going to die if you do this, I know I am," Howard whispered abjectly.

 

"My frightened boy." Oliver cupped Howard's jaw in his hand, tilting his face upward, his thumb caressing Howard's cheek. "I would never harm you." Oliver's voice was very gentle. He liked Howard, liked the way Howard had given way to him easily. Howard had not only accepted Marcus's invitation, he had accepted the changes it presaged.

 

"I don't want this, Oliver, please, don't make me do this, I don't want to do this–"

 

"I know," Oliver said. "I know, Howard, I know." He stroked Howard's hair tenderly back from his face. "Still, I know you will do what I tell you to do, because you're my good boy."

 

"Yes," Howard whispered. "Yes. I want to be your boy, Oliver, I want to be good for you, but I don't think I can do this. Please don't hurt me."

 

"You can take my hand inside you," Oliver said persuasively. "You can do that for me, Howard, because you love me and you want to please me." 

 

"I'm afraid. I know it will hurt," Howard said tentatively. "Please, Oliver, I'm scared."

 

"You can do this" Oliver said certainly. "It's an intense sensation to process, but you can do this, Howard. I'll take care of you. We'll do it this afternoon. This morning we've got an appointment to work out at the gym. That's a good thing, because it will help relax you."

 

I don't think anything is going to relax me, Howard thought glumly to himself. He'd watched fisting demonstrations at Le Plaisir and always he'd had to turn away. "Are we going to use a sling?" Howard asked Oliver tentatively. "I get nauseous just looking at them. Swinging things and migraines are a bad mix."

 

"The table will do just as well," Oliver said. "Don't over think this, Howard. I know what I'm doing. I'm going to make this good for you, I promise. All you have to do is lie back, relax and trust me."

 

Oh sure, like that's easy, Howard thought to himself, but he had gained a little bit of self awareness over the past few weeks and he knew it would be foolhardy to make a sarcastic crack to Oliver right now. He'd end up over Oliver's knee and then he'd be twice as miserable. No, stoic silence was undoubtedly his best course here...maybe.

 

"Penny for your thoughts?" Oliver asked. "Or perhaps you need a stronger incentive not to keep secrets from me?"

 

Or maybe not. "No, no," said Howard hastily. "I was just thinking about later. About being fisted. I'm just not sure I can do this, Oliver. It's never been something I was into and I don't know much about it and I never, ever thought I'd even think about letting someone fist me."

 

"I'll take good care of you," Oliver promised. "Come on, we only have the gym for ninety minutes. Let's not waste it. The looser you are, the easier it's going to be for you to enjoy it."

 

Howard went through his usual rigorous routine while Oliver did his own routine. They passed each other during their workouts like good drivers on a highway, never heading toward the same piece of machinery or equipment at the same time, never crowding each other, but always ready to spot each other if needed with the free weights. After their workout, Oliver fired up the sauna and insisted that Howard sit with him in the dry heat for fifteen minutes, despite Howard's reluctance to waste time baking.

 

"The calmer you are, the more relaxed you are, the easier this is going to be," Oliver told Howard, drawing him closer and kissing him. "Think of how good it's going to feel, to have my hand deep inside your body, to belong to me completely."

 

Howard was unconvinced, but despite his reservations, the moment he was dreading came soon enough.

 

Oliver ushered Howard into the bathroom and toward the exam table. "Lie down please, on your back, heels up to your buttocks and legs apart. That's it, nice and open." He dropped the end of the table and raised the table surface so that he was standing directly between Howard's thighs. Oliver cuffed Howard's ankles, positioned Howard's heels in the table's stirrups and clipped the restraints in place. There was now no easy escape. "Come on now, legs up."

 

Howard shuddered through the first moments of lubrication, but Oliver was firm and matter of fact and he soon had Howard calmed down and breathing as he directed.

 

"You're being such a good boy for me, Howard," Oliver said. "Relax, let me work some lube inside you."

 

"Ahhhh," Howard moaned, as Oliver's slick finger penetrated him and began to massage him internally. He whimpered with fright as Oliver withdrew his finger and eased a lubricant filled syringe between his tensing buttocks and into the tight opening within and depressed the plunger, filling Howard with the thick gel. He arched his back, reflexively pushing against the syringe.

 

"That didn't hurt." Oliver said certainly. He double-gloved his hand and lubricated it.

 

Howard flinched at even the touch of Oliver's first gentle finger at his opening.

 

"Relax, Howard, if you tense up like that again I'm going to spank you first. Breathe. Trust me," Oliver said sternly.

 

"I'm sorry, Oliver. I'll do better." Howard took a deep breath and resolved to let go of his doubts and just trust Oliver. As he made the decision, he felt his tension and fear slip away. It was so much easier than he imagined it would be, to just trust and leave himself quite literally in Oliver's hands. It felt entirely right. "I'm ready now, Oliver. I'm all yours."

 

Oliver felt the drop in tension as Howard made up his mind to submit to him. "Good boy. I am going to fist you and you are going to enjoy it. Trust me to make it good for you." Oliver slipped two fingers into Howard and began working them in a steady circle, massaging the tight muscle, rubbing his prostate firmly. Howard squirmed, growing harder. Oliver pressed a third finger inside, flexing them, pushing inward and then back under the sphincter itself, expanding the muscle.

 

"Ahhhh...." Howard groaned involuntarily. 

 

"You can do this," Oliver insisted. "Let go, Howard, let me take you through this. I promise you'll be all right. Breathe, that's it, just breathe." Oliver pulled out, added more lube to his hand and making a wedge of his three slick fingers, pushed back inside. He worked the three fingers in and out, turning and twisting, until Howard was well dilated, and then adding more lubricant, formed his five fingers into a tight beak and pressed them into Howard.

 

The first moment of entry was surprisingly easy, Howard's hole with slick with lubricant and his muscles well relaxed. It wasn't until Oliver had thrust several times, each deeper than before, that he stilled his hand, his knuckles pressed to the outside of Howard's asshole.

 

"Oh god," Howard moaned. "Oh god."

 

"Breathe, Howard," Oliver instructed. "Good boy, breathe. Blow out, Breathe. Out." He tucked his thumb into his palm and pushed. "Push, Howard, that's it. All right now, easy, easy..." Slowly and inexorably, his hand moved inside. Howard's sphincter tightened on the smooth slide of his wrist. "There we are, what a good boy you're being, there we are."

 

"It's in?" Howard gasped. "Oh god. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod." He tried to breathe into the sensation, the fill and press and sheer heat of it. "Ohmygodohmygod."

 

"Good boy," Oliver crooned. "Good boy, that's it, my whole hand, all the way up you. You're mine now, that's it, all mine." He pressed his hand deeper, the fingers naturally curling back to make a fist, and thrust into Howard, relishing Howard's gutteral groans.

 

"Oliver," Howard moaned, utterly beyond sense. He could feel Oliver's fist working in him, opening him deeper than he'd ever been opened before. He lifted his head to see Oliver better, then lay back again, undone at the intimacy, at the extraordinary feel of Oliver's hand deep inside him. Trusting Oliver to keep him safe. A warm flush of emotion and arousal reddened his pale skin.

 

Oliver noted the flush of color and twisted his hand so that his fist was palm up. His folded knuckles pressed against Howard's prostate in a harsh massage as Howard writhed, panting. With a smug satisfaction, Oliver watched Howard's stupefied expression as without Howard willing it, his cum flowed over his belly and chest.

 

Howard moaned, never having felt an orgasm anything like that before and Oliver continued to pump his hand inside him, feeling his muscles clench and spasm. Howard sagged back, totally spent and totally exhausted, and Oliver slowly eased his hand out.

 

"Owwww...." Howard whimpered as Oliver's knuckles slipped free. "Ohgodohgod... ow..."

 

"You're okay, Howard, you're good." Oliver made soothing noises. "All right, all done now." Oliver quickly stripped off his gloves and helped Howard put his legs down. He stroked him gently. "I have you." He covered him with a soft blanket. Howard's eyes were glazing over hazily.

 

"Good boy," Oliver praised him. "My good boy."

 

"Yours," Howard said softly. "All yours now.

 

"Can you sit up? I want to get you into bed." Oliver helped Howard shift upright and tilting him, blanket and all, over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, brought Howard into the next room and slid him gently onto the bed. He settled himself alongside Howard, stroking him gently. "I love you."

 

"I love you." Howard snuggled closer.

 

Oliver wasn't surprised by Howard's drowsy acceptance of his caresses. Being fisted for the first time was an overwhelming experience, perhaps the most profound loss of virginity a man could experience. To take another man's hand into his body, to accept that degree of intimacy, to merge to that extent, was something very few men had the ability or desire to do. Oliver stroked Howard's hair back from his closing eyes and kissed him gently. "All mine. Inside and out."

 

"It felt so good," Howard whispered. "I feel so alive."

 

"That's because you're not pretending anything any more," Oliver said. "You're your real self, your full, submissive self, and it feels good, doesn't it?"

 

"Yes. It's so much easier this way, Oliver," Howard said. "I thought it was going to be hard, but it's so much easier not to pretend any more."

 

"My brave boy." Oliver kissed Howard again and Howard settled even more closely into him, his body soft and open and trusting. "I'm so very proud of you."

 

Chapter 10

 

Marcus was glad to hear of Oliver's success. "You were able to fist him? That's impressive, Oliver. I have to say, there is no way I would have imagined you could bring him down that deep in this short a span of time."

 

"He wants this, Marcus," Oliver said. "More than wants; he needs this. I couldn't have done it otherwise."

 

"I'd say you're ready to take the final step, Oliver. Do it while you still have enough distance as his top and not his lover to be able to do it, because unpleasant as it's going to be even now, it'll be worse as your commitment to him deepens."

 

"This is the part I have never liked," Oliver said.

 

"I understand that, Oliver." Marcus really did understand. "However we've agreed that you will do as the board and I have decided. A top who enters our program after hurting his submissive must understand what the pain he inflicted felt like to his submissive.

We need evidence that he's developed a real sense of empathy before we will accept that he's no longer a danger to the community."

 

"I don't like it, Marcus," Oliver said. "I've said before and I'll say it again, it's never been about retribution for me. It's about Howard finding his real self, about him coming to grips with the fact that he's not and never was a dominant. This seems like gratuitous punishment."

 

"It's not, Oliver," Marcus said. "I think you're too close to see this clearly. Howard forced Alan to accept a stainless steel butt plug despite Alan's protests. It doesn't matter that they had agreed on no safe words. No real top is that out of tune with his submissive's feelings that he can't see when he's crossing the line from inflicting pain to inflicting damage. You've fisted Howard, you know as well as I do that he's physically capable of taking even a large steel butt plug without being harmed, and he deserves to learn what it felt like for Alan, both physically and emotionally."

 

"I'll do it, but I'm not going to use a plug that size," Oliver said. "Alan was a far more experienced bottom than Howard. It's my contention that if Howard had done a good job supporting him through it, the insertion would have been safe. It won't be safe for Howard and I am not going to harm Howard. He is my submissive; I'll see that he learns this lesson in empathy, but I'm not going to damage him. He'll learn it just as well from being forced to accept a slightly smaller plug."

 

"All right," Marcus said. "I'll agree to that. He takes the next size down steel plug and he's completed the program to my satisfaction and he can have his membership card back. However there will have to be some discussion about his newfound role. He's clearly not a top."

 

"He's a true submissive," Oliver said. "I don't think he knows yet how deep a level of submission he wants. I suspect he's not a slave, but he is someone who's going to need a 24/7 relationship."

 

"You're welcome to a suite of rooms over the club at our expense while you sort yourselves out," Marcus said. "I hate to lose your services, but I'm glad that you've found someone you love and want to have a full time relationship with. I hope it works out for you."

 

"Thank you, Marcus." Oliver took the stainless steel butt plug in his hand and turned it over meditatively. "Have them send me one downstairs, please. I'll introduce it today and we'll see how it goes."

 

"Very good, Oliver. Remember, this is not a new requirement. You've taken your other clients through this. Would you do less for Howard?"

 

"You're entirely too sure of yourself sometimes, Marcus," Oliver said laughingly. "I don't know how I feel about how easily you manipulate me."

 

"You'll work it out," Marcus said with a smile. "You're a smart man and a very, very good top. I don't expect you'll hold it against me in the end." They shook hands and Oliver headed back down to their suite to make the needed preparations.

 

"It's time for your final lesson in empathy." Oliver showed Howard the stainless steel butt plug. "It's actually a little smaller than the one you forced your Alan to accept."

 

"Don't!" Panic in Howard's voice. "It's too large, I can't, Oliver, don't!" It was still huge and unlike Oliver's hand, it was hard, inflexible and utterly unforgiving.

 

"I've been a top, a master, for a solid twenty years. I consider myself a skilled dominant, it's a role I've trained for, a role I take seriously. I never, ever abused a submissive in my care," Oliver said. "You hurt Alan badly and then you insisted that you were the wronged party. You need to learn what it was he felt, what it was you did to him." Oliver knew from his review of Howard's file how Howard had positioned Alan. Oliver didn't like the position, but he wanted to replicate it, as much to demonstrate to Howard how unhelpful it was as to remind Howard of what he'd done. "Bend over, Howard. Hands flat on the bed." He stood behind Howard and used his foot to widen Howard's stance. Without offering any comfort or any reassurance, Oliver pressed the lubricated head of the solid metal plug firmly against Howard's anus and twisted it, slowly working it inward.

 

"Please don't." Howard panted and quivered fearfully.

 

It wasn't easy for Oliver to continue to press the heavy metal plug deeper, knowing how genuinely terrified Howard was. Oliver had no desire to punish Howard for his past sins. This lesson was not a part of the program that Oliver particularly agreed with and while he thought some rogue tops needed the reinforcement to prevent them from deceiving themselves about what they had actually done, he didn't think Howard was one of them.

 

"Please, stop!" Howard cried out finally, frantic. "It hurts, it fucking hurts, stop, take it out!"

 

"It's your choice, Howard. It's a third of the way in. You've only got to open a little wider. If I take it out now, I'm going to spank you and then fuck you and put a smaller butt plug in for the night and then we'll try this again tomorrow morning. Is that what you want?"

 

"No, Oliver, please, don't–" Howard began to cry. "I don't want you to do this to me. I don't want you to hurt me. Please, Oliver, make it stop hurting. Oliver, please, take it out?"

 

Oliver eased the steel butt plug from Howard's anus. Howard whimpered as the sphere's bulge dilated his sphincter again as it was removed. Not reacting to Howard's distress, Oliver pushed Howard's shoulders down toward the mattress. "Brace yourself."

 

Howard tensed at the awkward position and Oliver spanked him soundly, his hand falling across the tightly drawn buttocks and the tender crease between thigh and buttock in hard, rapid rhythm. Not until Howard was moaning piteously did Oliver stop spanking him.

 

"Please..." Howard's head was spinning. "Don't do me now, please."

 

"I told you I would spank you and then fuck you," Oliver said. He took his cock in his hand, massaging it to hardness despite his lack of excitement at the prospect of taking Howard. "And that's what I'm going to do. You have no choice but to accept it, Howard."

 

"I know," Howard sniffled. "I know, Oliver. I deserve this, after what I did to Alan."

 

"You deserve this because you need to learn from your own experience just what it is you did and just how frightening it was and how painful it felt," Oliver said. "You need to learn what it is to trust and have that trust result in pain. And I will always give you what you need." Judging that Howard's anus was slick enough from the lubricant on the butt plug, Oliver pressed into Howard without added lube, penetrated him in one slow, endless stroke.

 

It hurt, not as much as being taken dry would have hurt, but more than Howard was accustomed to. Howard suppressed a moan and tried to relax into the feeling of fullness. It was a long, slow fucking, Oliver gave Howard no help in achieving his own erection, and in consequence Howard was in tears by the end, every nerve ending in his body vibrating with not quite pain.

 

Sniffling, Howard let Oliver pet him. He sighed as Oliver spread his buttocks, resigned to the insertion of the substantial butt plug Oliver routinely made him sleep with. Compared to the wicked steel sphere it felt almost comfortable. Oliver was gentle as he pushed the device into place, sensitive to how tender Howard was from the afternoon's ordeal.

 

"Lie down now. On your side, Howard, I want to hold you." Oliver lay down next to Howard and drew him close. "You're still going to have to take the metal butt plug before we're done with this lesson in empathy," Oliver reminded Howard, disguising his own regrets. "It might be easier on you to take it now, when you've already been fucked hard. I know you're sore, but the muscles in your sphincter are exhausted and that will make the insertion easier. It would be better to get this over with now, than to wait until the morning. I won't put it in you if you tell me you absolutely can't bear to try it again, but I'd advise you to let me do it now and get it over with." He didn't mention that the position he intended to use, with Howard positioned on his side, would be a lot easier and less painful.

 

"I don't know," Howard moaned. "I'm scared, Oliver. It hurt a lot. Even partially inserted, it hurt a lot."

 

"I know it did," Oliver said, forcing himself to keep his voice even and steady. "You hurt Alan this way, Howard. It hurt him a lot, too. Now will you trust me on this?"

 

"All right," Howard said, reaching a decision. "I do trust you, Oliver." He began to shiver. "Please don't hurt me too much. Please, Oliver, please."

 

Oliver could hear how panicked Howard was. "Being this scared isn't helping you any," Oliver said, more to himself than to Howard, feeling the tension in Howard's body. "Let me see if I can't help you out a little." He slipped down and took Howard's soft cock in his mouth. He licked and sucked gently, smiling inwardly when he began to feel Howard's cock stiffen in his mouth. He continued to tease Howard's cock until the gentle stimulation began to overwhelm the fear Howard was feeling.

 

"All right, that's better now," Oliver said once Howard had settled down, taking Howard's cock in his hand and beginning to stroke him firmly.

 

As Howard's erection grew, he began to moan with excitement, not fear. He tensed suddenly, his cock completely hard, as Oliver swiftly removed the smaller plug and pressed the steel butt plug, well slicked with more lube, tightly to Howard's spasming sphincter.

 

"No, don't, ow," Howard moaned, trying to pull away, but Oliver held him still and forced the hard metal plug in place, making Howard to accept it despite his attempts to eject it.

"It hurts, please take it out, it hurts."

 

Oliver bent forward again and took Howard's softened cock in his mouth and worked over it until with a groan, Howard came in his mouth.

 

In the moment of exhaustion that followed Howard's orgasm, Oliver slid the metal plug free of Howard's dilated sphincter even as Howard moaned piteously. "All done, Howard, all done. It's all over now." Oliver repositioned Howard on his stomach, his face to Oliver's chest, his ass upward with no pressure whatsoever. "No more pain, Howard, I promise. You're safe now." He stroked Howard's sweaty back slowly and regretfully. He knew the insertion had hurt badly.

 

"I didn't mean to hurt Alan," Howard said painfully and sadly. His eyes filled with tears. "I thought I was doing what a top does, enforcing discipline. I didn't know how bad it was. I deserved that after what I did to Alan."

 

"An eye for an eye," Oliver said regretfully. "I've never liked that saying. I've never had to administer a punishment that felt so much like rape and I didn't enjoy it. You needed to learn just what you did, though. In any case, it's over now. You understand intellectually, emotionally and physically what you did wrong. My report to Marcus will attest to the fact that you've fulfilled our final requirement and you'll be released from the program with your membership in Le Plaisir restored. Congratulations." He lay down alongside Howard, who huddled closer, seeking comfort. Oliver brushed Howard's hair gently back from his shadowed eyes, glad that he didn't pull away, and brushed away the tears tracking Howard's cheeks.

 

"Are you angry at me? Are you going to leave me? Don't leave me," Howard said softly. "Please, Oliver, I need you. Don't leave me now that the program's done."

 

"I'm proud of you, Howard, I'm not angry at you and I'm not going to leave you on your own," Oliver said. "You're the one who needs to decide, now that the program's done, whether you really do want me, now that you no longer need to obey me to get your club membership back."

 

"I'm getting my card back," Howard said slowly. "This is too ironic for words, Oliver. I'm getting my card back and I don't want it. I don't want any part of Le Plaisir anymore. It isn't that I'm ashamed of being a submissive, well, maybe it is a little, I admit I may have some lingering issues on that score, but I'm sure you'll help me resolve them." He gave a little sniffle. "I hope. But I don't want to be a submissive on parade, I don't want to see my former friends, my former lovers. I just want to be yours, Oliver. I'm sorry I didn't know that sooner and that I wasn't clear about it and I'll understand if it means you don't want me."

 

"I want you, Howard," Oliver said. "I'll be very happy to have your submission to me be a private matter just between the two of us."

 

"A private matter? No more spankings in public, like the other afternoon in the dining room?" Howard asked tentatively, flushing as he spoke. "I hated that so much, Oliver. Please don't do that to me again. I'll take double the spanking, I'll even take a paddling with that miserable leather paddle of yours, but please, please don't punish me again in front of other people."

 

"I'll take it under consideration," Oliver said. "You never flinched at dishing out public punishment to your submissives though, now did you?"

 

"No," Howard admitted, "but Oliver, we negotiated that. I know I screwed up with Alan, badly, but I was a safe player, maybe not a kind top, but I did pay attention to issues of consent, and the submissives I took on loved public play. I did, too."

 

"What's changed for you, then?" Oliver asked.

 

"I can't do it as a submissive," Howard said. "I've never felt this naked in my life. I had a public persona as a top that was protection for me and that made public play possible. Now I've got nothing but myself and I don't want anyone to look at me but you."

 

Oliver was impressed by Howard's insight into himself and his ability to articulate it. For the first time he thought Marcus had been right about insisting on Howard undergoing the stainless steel butt plug insertion, frightening and painful as it had been for Howard. It was not only punishment; it had also thrown into high relief Howard's relationship to Alan and Howard's new status.

 

"I don't know who I am anymore," Howard said sadly. He leaned back on the pillows next to Oliver and came readily into Oliver's embrace when Oliver hugged him. "I feel like I have no skin," Howard said. "How am I going to talk to people? Who am I going to be? Who are they going to see when they look at me?"

 

"Most people aren't as sensitive as you think they are," Oliver said. "The may wonder for a day or two what's changed about you, but they'll get used to it. Trust me on this; I've seen it happen many times before. Within a month no one will even find you that different."

 

"I feel so strange," Howard said.

 

"You can stay here awhile longer," Oliver said. "Marcus has got rooms upstairs for program graduates who want to stay on awhile after they've completed the program. The facilities are less stripped down than down here, more like normal hotel rooms. We could take a pair of them side by side with a connecting door, if you'd like that."

 

"You'd stay with me?" Howard asked.

 

"Yes, Howard," Oliver said. "I think you're still looking for a 24/7 relationship, only this time you're on the other side of the equation. I think you need a top and I want to be that top. I know you and I want to be here for you. I'm in love with you, Howard."

 

"I love you, too," Howard said. "You don't know what you're in for with me though, Oliver. I'm still scared of this. It feels new. I feel new. I don't know how to be a good submissive. I wish I did, but I don't."

 

"You're doing just fine, Howard," Oliver said. "You know how to be a good boy, I'm sure of that, I've seen that. You don't have to know anything more than you already do. We'll figure out the rest together."

 

Oliver could feel Howard struggling with his new emotions. Oliver had no doubt that he had touched Howard's submissive core, but how to integrate his newly compliant attitude with his full, active self? Oliver knew of one sure way to keep Howard centered. A daily spanking would go a long way toward keeping Howard in hand.

 

"Howard, I am going to spank you every day, not because you've done anything wrong, but as a reminder of who you belong to and who you need to mind," Oliver said.

 

"Every day?" Howard whispered. He hoped it wouldn't be a very hard spanking, but he wasn't going to ask. He'd trust Oliver to know what was right for them. "Sure, Oliver." Howard had no idea how he had changed to the point where Oliver's choice reassured rather than distressed him.

 

"My good boy." Oliver could practically see Howard making the decision not to question, but only to trust. Pleased at Howard's easy acquiescence, Oliver drew Howard over his knees again. He ran his hand over Howard's buttocks and spread Howard's thighs, wanting access to the soft skin on the inside of his cheeks. Oliver alternated lazy swats back and forth until Howard was shifting and sighing audibly. It was not a harsh spanking, but rather an intimate reminder of possibilities.

 

Picking up the pace, Oliver concentrated his spanks on the inner edges of Howard's buttocks, the tender, unblemished flesh. Howard whimpered again, and he whimpered even more when Oliver shifted from spanking to stroking and spreading his buttocks. A touch of cool lubrication and Oliver's finger was opening him, and then Howard was pushed forward from Oliver's lap until he was sprawling face down on the bed, thighs spread wide and Oliver kneeling between them.

 

Howard sighed dreamily as Oliver pushed into him. This was a lot better. It hurt less than the spanking and it was less intimidating than being forced to look at Oliver as Oliver took him. Howard let Oliver's movements propel his. He came hard within moments of Oliver's entry and after that he shivered as Oliver continued to pump his cock into him until he was done.

 

"Good boy," Oliver said, withdrawing slowly. "Come to me now, I want to hold you." He rolled onto the bed. "You took that very well and I'm very pleased with you." He stroked Howard's hair gently back from his forehead.

 

"My hair's too long," Howard said absently.

 

"I like it this way," Oliver said, fingering the thick, light brown strands. "It's beautiful hair and I enjoy how it feels. I want you to wear it this length."

 

"Oh." Howard was silent for a moment. "Is there anything else you want me to do differently, Oliver? I like being clean shaven. You're okay with that, aren't you?"

 

"It's a good look for you, Howard," Oliver said. "Maybe one of these days I'll wax you myself." He laughed when Howard winced. "Why should some stranger get to enjoy your suffering when I could have the pleasure myself?"

 

"I hope you're joking," Howard muttered under his breath. "Ow! You're mean, Oliver."

 

"I am," Oliver said contentedly, rubbing his hand over the fresh print it had left on Howard's ass. "We have an appointment with Marcus in his office in an hour. Up. I want you to shave and shower and then you'll get dressed."

 

"You're letting me have clothes?" Howard's stomach had knotted apprehensively at the thought of meeting Marcus while naked. "Thank you, Oliver, so much."

 

"I told you, Howard: I'm very happy to have your submission as a private bond between us." Oliver patted Howard's ass gently. "Now get moving."

 

Marcus stood up to greet the two men as they entered his office. "Oliver, Howard, this is indeed a pleasure. I'm very glad that things have worked out as they have. Come, let's sit down together." He moved from behind his desk to the upholstered furniture arranged in one corner of the spacious room. "Would you like a drink?"

 

"Just water, thank you," Oliver said. "Howard?"

 

"Water's good," Howard said, taking his cue from Oliver.

 

Marcus smiled and filled three glasses with ice and mineral water. Handing two to his guests, he seated himself, the third glass in his hand. "I understand you have fulfilled all the requirements of the program, Howard. Congratulations. I am very pleased to be able to welcome you back to Le Plaisir."

 

"Thank you," Howard said. "I'm not sure at the moment what my plans are regarding the club, but it's a very good feeling to know my suspension's been lifted. Thank you for giving me this opportunity, although I have to say, there were many times in the last few weeks that I didn't feel particularly grateful for it." Marcus laughed in surprise at his joke and Howard smiled.

 

"I imagine not," Marcus said. "Oliver, Howard, I understand that you would like to take a little time to sort through the implications of your new relationship. I'm very happy to make a suite of guest rooms upstairs available to you for as long as you'd like to stay."

 

"That's very kind of you, Marcus. Thank you," Oliver said.

 

"Congratulations again to both of you. I look forward to seeing you again." Marcus stood, ending the interview. He shook hands with Oliver and then Howard and then the two men left the office, closing the door behind them.

 

The upstairs rooms were similar in scale to the ones downstairs, but less spartan in furnishing. Howard and Oliver were allotted two generously sized adjacent rooms, each with its own bath. A door between the two rooms allowed them to be used as a single suite. A lavish potted orchid with a bow and gift card stood in one sunny window.

 

Howard wandered over, curious, and examined the card. "It's from Marcus, wishing us well. It's very unusual, isn't it? Yellow and purple and some colors I can't name. It's beautiful though."

 

"It is," Oliver agreed. "How clever of Marcus. It's exactly like you, Howard: an unusual specimen."

 

"Is that what I am, a specimen?" Howard asked, not sure whether or not he liked the description.

 

"A beautiful, one of a kind specimen. Singular and very valuable," Oliver said. "I collect orchids, Howard. Marcus chose this with one with great care. It's extremely rare and very precious, like you."

 

"Oh." Howard swallowed hard, not certain how to respond. "I think I'll look around a bit," he said, embarrassed by the heightened emotions he felt. An examination table was set up in one capacious bathroom. Howard swallowed hard at the sight. He had become accustomed to Oliver's routines and he was not exactly surprised that the table would have a permanent place in their lives together, but on some level he had wondered how severe a discipline Oliver would maintain, now that his tenure in the program was over.

 

"Is there something we need to discuss, Howard?" Oliver asked, correctly interpreting the uncertain expression on Howard's face.

 

"Are we going to continue with all of it?" Howard asked. "The enemas, the butt plugs, as well as the spankings? I'm not complaining, Oliver; I was just wondering."

 

"You're allowed to ask respectful questions, Howard," Oliver said. "I won't punish you for that."

 

"I punished my submissives for asking questions," Howard said morosely. "I don't know how a submissive is supposed to behave, Oliver. I was a lousy top, I see that now, but I'm afraid I'm going to be just as lousy a submissive."

 

"Trust me, Howard," Oliver said firmly. "I expect my submissive to be well behaved and there is no way you're going to be a lousy one. I'll make sure of that. All you have to do is trust me."

 

"You make it sound so simple," Howard said. "It doesn't feel simple, Oliver."

 

"It is simple, Howard. You're mine. I will make my expectations for your behavior clear and you will do your best to meet them. You are always allowed to come to me with your questions. I may not always answer them the way you hope I will. Come here now." Oliver beckoned Howard closer and folded his arms around him. "Easy, Howard, I'm not going to punish you. I just want to hold you while we talk about this."

 

With ill grace Howard let himself be steered toward the bed. "What are you going to do to me?"

 

"I told you, I want to hold you while we talk." Oliver lowered them both to the bed. "I believe in routines. You will find this transition easier if we continue to follow the ones we've established. I am going to fuck you every morning and you are going to be a very good boy for me. I am going to spank you every day and you are going to sleep with a butt plug as you've been doing. You will have an enema whenever I deem it appropriate. Within these limits, I'm prepared to be flexible. If there are things you'd like us to explore together, we can."

 

"It's hard for me to imagine that there's a whole lot we haven't done," Howard said.

 

"Then you have a very limited imagination," Oliver chuckled. "You responded very well to being fisted, Howard. I hope you like fisting, Howard, because I do and we're going to do it regularly. I think you'll also find urethral sounds an illuminating experience."

 

"Urethral sounds?" Howard blanched. He was familiar with the phrase. If the thought of fisting had been initially terrifying, the introduction of urethral sounds into his regimen was beyond imagination.

 

"Trust me, Howard," Oliver said. "I understand that you can't think about this sort of play without flinching and crossing your legs. However it really can be very good. You were nervous about being fisted, too, and remember how that worked out?"

 

"It was really good," Howard said, his expression softening at the memory. "I can't help it, though, this seems different to me. The idea of something being inserted in my cock doesn't sound erotic, it just sounds scary. I'm sorry, Oliver."

 

"We're going to do this, Howard, because I want the pleasure of having you submit to me this way. I promise I'll make it very good for you. Think a moment: did it hurt when I catheterized you?"

 

"It didn't exactly hurt," Howard said slowly, "but it wasn't pleasant either. Well, I suppose it was a little bit of a kick, at least afterwards. When I think about you taking control of me that way, it does excite me. Just the actual process wasn't really pleasant at all."

 

"I want you to do this for me, Howard. I want you to open yourself to me this way. It's an intense sensation, but you can take that for me if I tell you to, I know you can."

 

"All right," Howard said. "I'm going to trust you on this, Oliver. Please don't hurt me."

 

"My good boy. I'll take very good care of you." Oliver kissed Howard, opening Howard's mouth with his tongue and enjoying the way Howard softened under his ministrations. "We'll do it tomorrow. For today we're just going to relax and enjoy our new quarters."

 

The urethral sounds were shiny metal, surprisingly thick, surprisingly and scarily long. Howard swallowed hard as he thought about being penetrated by them and looked away.

 

"I want you to look at them, Howard. I want you to imagine how they are going to feel slipping into your cock, deep into your body, past your prostate and finally into your bladder. I want you to imagine the feeling of having every interior sphincter open to my instruments," Oliver said. "I will not damage you and if you cooperate, it will be an extremely erotic and perhaps even pleasurable experience. The sensation is intense, but not unbearably so and I will take great pleasure in having you experience it. You will do this for me, Howard, because I want you to."

 

"Yes, Oliver," Howard whispered, but he was afraid at the thought of the rigid metal rods being inserted in that tiniest of openings. Even though Oliver had catheterized him more than once and it had not hurt, it had been a humiliating and deeply troubling invasion and this promised to be even more so. At least the catheters had been flexible.

 

"I don't want to do this, Oliver," Howard said, needing to feel tightly held. "Please don't make me."

 

"Do you decide what you do or don't do?" Oliver asked, knowing that Howard was asking in his own way for help in entering into a more submissive head space and more than willing to take him there.

 

"No," Howard said, "But Oliver, this scares me so much. Please don't make me do this."

 

"Oh, I will," Oliver said. "Come here, Howard, over my lap. I'm going to spank you."

 

"I didn't do anything! I wasn't rude! You can't do this!" Howard protested, his heart sinking as he heard his own words. "Oh shit."

 

"Talking back. Raising your voice to me. Telling me what I can or can't do," Oliver said. It was an excuse, but it was one they both understood and acquiesced to. "Oh yes, you are getting a spanking. It was going to be just for my pleasure, but now it's going to be punishment, too." He drew Howard down over his lap. "Move, little boy, and it'll be a lot worse. Stay still and take it." He brought his hand down sharply and firmly on the clenched, pale cheeks.

 

"Ow!" Howard wailed at the onset of the spanking. Oliver had started in hard and the swats only got harder and faster as Howard struggled to stay in position. He was crying and red from the crown of his buttocks to mid thigh before Oliver stopped.

 

"We're not going to have any more of this today." Oliver said. "Come into the bathroom, I'm going to wash you down and then I'm going to play with you." He guided Howard into the bathroom and indicated that he should step in the shower and hold onto the handholds conveniently mounted on the walls. As Howard forced himself to remain still, Oliver washed him from top to bottom, playing the hose over his reddened buttocks, cleaning his genitals and ass thoroughly. Finished, he wrapped Howard in a towel and propelled him toward the table on the opposite side of the room.

 

"Lie down on your back." Oliver had give up trying to intrigue Howard and now demanded his cooperation. "You will do this for me, Howard, because you are mine."

 

Howard obeyed without protest, trying to settle comfortably as Oliver swabbed his cock with disinfectant. Despite Oliver's earlier reassurances, Howard was still quite sure he would die painfully during the session, but the spanking had done what Oliver had intended it to do, thrust Howard so firmly into a submissive head space that anything that Oliver required of him, he would do.

 

Oliver gloved his hands with sterile latex and holding Howard's penis loosely in his left hand, inserted the tip of the syringe into his cock and pressed out a small quantity of lubrication. Howard lay absolutely still, equal parts terrified, overwhelmed and entranced.

 

Oliver took the sterile metal rod by the handle and gently coaxed the rounded tip into the tiny opening. He let its own weight move the rod deeper, shifted Howard's flaccid cock so that the instrument could find its way through the narrow passage. Howard tensed at the sensation of penetration, torn between terrified anticipation of the pain he was sure had to come and the actual sensation of deep massage in the tight passageway. As the curved tip of the sound pressed past his prostate, he groaned at the sensation of direct massage. He felt as if he were being turned inside out.

Oliver felt carefully with the tip of the sound for the opening where the urethra passed between Howard's abdominal muscles and through the last sphincter into his bladder. As the instrument descended to the depths of Howard's bladder, Howard gave an inarticulate moan of mingled dread and ecstasy.

 

"Mine," Oliver said, manipulating the tiny rod between his fingertips, his other hand supporting Howard's still flaccid cock. "All of you, mine."

 

"Oh god," Howard moaned. "Oliver please I'm going to die, this feels so strange, I can't bear it."

 

"You will though, for me," Oliver said, fascinated by the expression on Howard's face of total surrender. "I'm going to take it out now and try a little larger one, you'll take that for me, won't you? My good boy."

 

"Yes," Howard whispered. "Oh god Oliver go slow, it feels so strange, like I'm coming, but I'm not." He writhed at the sensation and Oliver used his forearm to pin him in place.

 

"Lie still, Howard, and let me do this," Oliver said. "Lie still and take it. You need to lie still for this to be safe."

 

"I'm trying," Howard said. "It's so intense, Oliver, I can't believe you're making me do this, that I'm letting you do this to me."

 

"You're a very good boy," Oliver crooned. "I need you to stay absolutely still for me. I don't want to damage you. It's not punishment, Howard, understand?"

 

"Yes," Howard answered. "I'll stay still, Oliver."

 

Oliver chose a slightly larger sound and once again took Howard's cock in his hand. He slapped it sharply, putting an end to any excitement it was showing.

 

"Ow," Howard moaned. The slap to his cock both countered his physical arousal and increased his emotional arousal. It was as hot as it was painful and the combination of feelings made him dizzy with want and terror.

 

Once again, Oliver tore open a disinfectant package and wiped the head of Howard's cock with the cool, damp towelet. He positioned a slightly thicker and heavier metal sound at the entrance to Howard's urethra. He guided it into the slightly dilated opening, but let the weight of the instrument itself draw it inward. Howard was breathing in shallow, frightened pants, fighting not to panic, and Oliver spoke sharply to him, pulling him back toward his center. "Be still, Howard, breathe," Oliver said firmly. "Deep breath, hold it, now breath out. Slow, Howard, slow. Breathe, Howard, that's all you have to do, that's all you can control here. This is going to happen, you are going to accept it, just breathe and let me take care of you."

 

Howard let Oliver's voice steady him and his breathing deepened and slowed. Again the sound rasped past Howard's prostate, making him shiver at the harsh shove of metal against his sensitive internal organ. The slightly thicker rod pressed deeper into his urethra, past already sensitized abdominal muscles and finally past the last sphincter into Howard's bladder. There was no real pain, just the thoroughly disconcerting sense of pressure and a sensation that was so strange there was no name Howard could give it. Howard tried to breathe, he tried to open his eyes and focus on Oliver, and he tried to process what was happening inside his body. It was too, too intense and tears ran down his cheeks as he clung to the last remnant of rational thought, that Oliver had him, that Oliver would take care of him.

 

"Good boy, my boy," Oliver praised him, seeing how Howard was melting into the table, his body totally responsive to Oliver's manipulations. He withdrew the sound slowly, savoring the whimpers and moans Howard made as it left his body.

 

"So strange, so intense, so–" Howard gasped. "I can't take it, I can't."

 

"You did, though. You took it beautifully," Oliver said, leaning in and kissing Howard as he set the sound aside. "My boy. My brave, good boy, taking that for me." He helped Howard sit up and waited until Howard's head cleared before easing him to his feet and walking him into the bedroom.

 

"Lie down with me," Oliver coaxed. "It may feel a little strange inside, and it's going to sting the first time you piss, but you're going to be fine." He spooned Howard to him and rubbed Howard's lower abdomen gently, his hand warm and heavy and comforting. "A little tender?"

 

"Yeah," Howard said tiredly. "Oh god what a turn on, Oliver. I never imagined, I never saw anyone do that before, I can't believe we did that." He sighed. "It was really, really good, Oliver, and it scared the shit out of me." He snuggled closer to Oliver. "I am so sore."

 

"You were wonderful," Oliver said. "So responsive, so natural." He leaned forward and Howard turned his head so that their lips brushed. "I love you, Howard. Mine." He stroked Howard's cheek. "My good boy."

 

"Yours," Howard agreed. "Oliver? I do love you." He sighed. "There isn't any part of me you haven't touched, is there? I'm entirely yours and oh god that was scary."

 

"Scary and wonderful, though, wasn't it?" Oliver asked.

 

"Scary, for sure," Howard said. "Intense. I'm not sure yet about wonderful."

 

"We'll have to do it again," Oliver said, laughing at the look Howard gave him. "Oh come on, Howard, you know I enjoyed it. There are lots of other things for us to explore first, though."

 

"I can't wait," Howard said sarcastically, tucking his hips under at Oliver's light pat to his ass.

 

"Be good," Oliver said. "I'm sure you'd like to just lie here and cuddle for a bit this afternoon. That was an intense scene and you did very well and I'm very, very proud of you."

 

"What happens now, Oliver?" Howard asked quietly. "We hardly know each other."

 

"Think of our being brought together like this as a sort of arranged marriage, Howard. We're on our honeymoon now, a well deserved vacation at Le Plaisir's expense," Oliver said with a wink. "We relax, we get to know each other better, and we sort out the details of meshing our lives together. When you're hardwired for this sort of power exchange relationship, and we both are, you start with this part of your life and work out from there."

 

"What if I don't know how to do that? What if I screw up?" Howard turned so that he was facing Oliver. "I'm not a nice person, Oliver."

 

"Nice is sort of a meaningless word, Howard. Are the things I do to you nice?" Oliver laughed and after a moment, Howard did too. Oliver kissed Howard thoroughly and Howard opened to him, welcoming his kiss. "I love you. Trust me, Howard, I won't let you screw up. You're mine and we're going to be just fine."

 

"I believe you, Oliver," Howard said, shifting closer so that his head lay on Oliver's shoulder. He snuggled in, closing his eyes trustfully. "I'm all yours."

 

Oliver shifted so that he was comfortable on the pillows and admired the highlights the sunlight brought out in Howard's soft brown hair. Looking beyond the bed, he saw the orchids in the window, their colors bright in the sunshine. The room was cool and comfortable, the bed was warm and cozy, and Howard lay quietly in his arms. Oliver couldn't imagine anything better.

 

                                           ***FIN***